


The Girl and the Librarian

by LizzieRimmsy (HardlightLibrarian)



Series: Librarians AU [1]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety Attacks, Complicated Relationships, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Doctor Who References, ER (1994) References, Emetophobia, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Minor Eve Baird/Flynn Carsen, Non Mary-Sue, Original Character(s), Other characters show up later, Post ...And the Apple of Discord, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Season/Series 01, Torchwood References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:35:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22407313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardlightLibrarian/pseuds/LizzieRimmsy
Summary: Set in series one, after And the Apple of Discord.When Sara Wheeler wished for a guy to drop into her life, she didn't think it would happen literally. Nor did she think it was *this* guy.
Series: Librarians AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636903
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5
Collections: The Librarians Prompt Month 2020





	1. Flynn Carsen

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I've added another OC into another fandom. No, it's not a Mary-Sue. It's also more about Flynn than the other Librarians, so this might not be for everyone. The others show up much later. Hope you get a kick out of it, anyway.

It was Friday night, and Sara, a thirty-year-old, Welsh girl, was alone — as usual — as San Francisco bustled with people just getting off work and headed to the nearest pub. Her parents, whom she lived with until she got on her feet, had been gone for a few hours now. Shopping. She hated it; the people, the smell of public places. The only solace she found was when she went out was her iPod, blaring music to the point of tinnitus.

But something about this evening seemed off. She felt that something would happen, which she felt a lot. Sixty percent of the time, she was right. The other forty, well, she tried to convince herself that it was better, but really, she enjoyed knowing that something happened. Because being left to guess — the unknown — scared her.

Halfway through binge-watching a cartoon about an alien and his crazy, robotic servant, she heard a loud rumbling sound, like thunder. She looked out the window and there were no clouds in sight.

_Weird._

She then heard the back door rattling, as though someone was trying to get inside. Apprehensively, she got up, grabbing a television remote as a weapon on the way, and little by little, she made her way to the door.

“I’ve seen this film,” she said to no-one. “I’ve dyed my hair brown, it’s not blonde any more, therefore... I’m safe from horror cliques... right?”

Her hand hovered over the door handles a moment, and before she could pull, it blew open on its own.

At first, she saw nothing. Just darkness, but a roaring noise came through, as if a raging storm was passing by. She stared into the nothingness until something heavy and solid flew into her, sending her tumbling back. That something was a person.

Sara set the person down on the floor, propped up against the coffee table, and once she regained her footing, she quickly shut the door.

She studied the person — the man — his hair all sticky-uppy and donning a fancy yet dishevelled three-piece suit and _Converse_ trainers. With his upper body slumped over his lower half, she couldn’t quite see his face. She could only think of one person who wore this on the regular: The Doctor.

 _He gained a bit of weight_, she thought as she lightly touched his stomach.

Dark chocolate brown eyes popped open. The mysterious man shot up,  lickety split, sending Sara back once again, this time with a startled shriek. Frantically searching for something familiar, he whirled around to the point of making himself dizzy.

Timid, she raised her hand, half waving, half questioning like she was back in school, trying to get her teacher’s attention. “Uh, hello?”

He immediately stopped, his handsome features hardening at the sight of her. A solemn eyebrow raised briefly. “Bonsoir, belle dame. Qu’est-ce qui t’amène?”

“I live here,” she replied.

He appeared shocked. “You understood me?”

She shrugged her shoulders. Tersely, she said, “It’s French. Secondary schoolers learn that.”

The man tapped his lips with his index finger. “You’re right, I should have picked a harder language. It would have made me look a lot  better. Smarter. What is _wrong_ with me?” Air hissed through gritted teeth when the man second guessed his self-query. “Don’t go there,” As he looked for clues as to where he was, he said, “Also, don’t mind me.”

“Don’t _mind_ you?” she echoed, now irked. “You’re over here tearing up my place.”

“Right, again. I’m sorry. Although... is that a Welsh accent I’m detecting?” Responding to her nod, he added, “Ble ydw i ar hyn o bryd?”

She regarded him with a befuddled stare. “What?”

He rolled his eyes. “Should have opened with that,” he mumbled. “Where am I?”

“San Francisco.”

“San Francisco?” he incredulously echoed. “I’m _way_ off!”

While she hopelessly watched him rummage through her things, she stood there with arms folded and a glare on her face. “Look, I don’t know what you think you’re doing Mister–”

“Flynn.”

She thrust a finger towards him. “Whatever, _Flynn!_ “ she said with a sneer. Eventually, her finger retreated into her fist, a slow realization dawning on her. “Oh, wait...”

Flynn heavily scrutinized an empty notebook before tossing it over his shoulder with no regard. He paid no attention to the woman staring at him with such awe.

“You are Librarian.”

He wheeled around, gawking at her. “How did you–?”

“Oh, everyone knows you. Saving the world every week, twice before Friday, or... something,” She looked like one of those obsessive fans, drooling over him. “I can’t believe it!” she chortled and outstretched her arms. “Take me with you!”

His only response was a single, disparaging  laugh, and drew in a sharp breath and on his exhale, he flat out said, “No,” Flynn began walking down the short flight of stairs that led to the kitchen.

Sara followed him. “No, really. You have no idea how boring my life is.”

“Still no.”

“ _Please??_ “

“I don’t do well with people,” he intoned while perusing the fairly empty fridge.

“Yeah, I’ve gathered that. Speaking of which, what are you doing?”

“I need food.”

“Okay, well, before you destroy anything else,” Sara took him by his arm and sat him down at the small kitchen table. “Why don’t you wait here and I’ll make something, eh?”

“If you insist,” His attentiveness on her was snared by a glimpse of a familiar, favourite, orange fizzy drink. He contained his excitement, but only just.

“I don’t know if you have any food allergies or anything, but–” The view of Flynn guzzling down what little was left of her _Fanta_ cut her right off.

He gazed back at her, mid-drink, with feigned remorse in his eyes. He didn’t feel bad one bit. After placing the empty bottle down and gulping a mouthful, he strained to ask without belching, “You didn’t want this, did you?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, it’s all right. I’ll just get a hold of my parents and tell them we need more.”

“Parents?” he repeated, curious, with a bit of worry in his voice.

“Yeah, they’ll be–” Soon after, she realized what she said herself, and that they could be home at any time, and she would then have to explain the mess and the strange man who randomly showed up. “Oh, God,” she uttered, muffled from holding her head in her hands.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll just eat and be on my merry way.”

“Hey, like a stray cat!” Clocking his wry gaze, she cleared her throat, now embarrassed. “Cats, they... come and go whenever they... No?”

Flynn rolled his eyes for a second time. This is why I don’t like people.

“Well, since we don’t have anything else!” Sara opened the fridge, pulled out a bottle of salsa, then a package of tortillas off the countertop and held them both up.

* * *

Neither of them spoke. They just ate. Other sounds filled the silence, however; with the window above the sink slightly open, they could hear a lone bird chirping away happily in the dusk hours, along with cars driving on a distant road, their drivers on their way home from work.

Needing to fill the void between them, Sara spoke up. “So, what are you doing here?”

Flynn stopped chewing, his eyes flicked to one side as he thought. He swallowed. “What are any of us doing here?”

She didn’t entirely expect him to get philosophical on her. Then again, she didn’t know what else she expected. “No, I meant _here_. In my house,” she said in a Welsh drawl. “In my kitchen. Eating with me. Isn’t there some... magical, sci-fie stuff you’re supposed to be doing?”

“Oh. I’m doing it. I’m on a mission. Or was until...” He gestured his thumb toward the back door.

“Mm. Dimension skid, was it?”

Flynn gave her a half-smile. “Something like that.”

She couldn’t believe that she got a genuine chuckle out of him. She was almost proud of herself for breaking into that stone heart of his.

Suddenly, the garage door opened with a loud clang, causing Flynn to jump. Even Sara twitched, despite that she was expecting it.

Once she shoved her heart back into her chest, she lightly touched his forearm. “It’s all right. Um... Come with me,” Sara guided him to her room, her small hand barely wrapping around his wrist.

Sara damn near slung him in her bedroom. If it wasn’t for his quick reflexes, he would have crashed into the wall on the opposite side of the room. “Sorry,” she said with a grimace. “Look, just stay in here. The TV has some channels — mostly local. There are some books and DVDs and CDs, none of which I’m sure you’re even _remotely_ interested in.”

Flynn observed her bedroom, browsing through her video games and nerdy collectables. He noticed the various plush toys on her twin sized bed. One disturbing, purple bunny caught his attention more than anything else.

“Are you listening to me?” she demanded.

“Uh-huh. Stay in here, got it,” he replied as he played around with the action figures she had on her shelf. “Wait. What if I have to... you know?”

“Bathroom is three doors down. I’ll bring something to eat later if you get hungry. Right now, you need sleep. You look knackered,” Her eyes narrowed, thinking carefully about her previous statement. “Librarians _do_ sleep, right?”

“Yes. Although, my sleeping schedule leaves a lot to be desired, to be Frank. You might have to deal with me being up all night.”

“Eh, me too,” Sara tried tucking a couple of short strands of her brown hair behind her ear but kept failing. Blowing it out of her face wasn’t working either. In the end, she had to grab a bobby pin and forced her hair back. Sara then jammed her hands in her hoodie pocket. She appeared a bit manic. “Wish me luck.”

He did, silently. The flicker of a smile flashed across his lips before turning into a large yawn, drawing a soft giggle from her.

“Go to sleep,” she told him. “I’ll be-“ Her brain fizzled, ideas running amok in her mind, and none of them pure. The thought of her being that close to him kicked her like a shot of tequila and Red Bull. Sara composed herself. “Go to sleep.”

“Were you going to say you will join me in a few minutes?”

“Maybe?” she promoted, smiling beatifically and biting her lower lip.

“Fine, but you are not getting anything out of me.”

“That’s fine by me. I’m not ready yet, anyway,” Her eyes widened when it hit her; that what she just said was probably too much information. Or maybe it was enough, and he was now wondering what was wrong with her. “I mean! Never mind...” She left the room, only to pop her head in through the cracked open door long enough to say, “Sleep tight.”

Sara retreated and hauled arse into the kitchen where there were still two plates on the table. She gasped in her head and swiftly washed them off before her parents came inside.

Suddenly, she could hear music coming from her room. “You found my eighties mix then, did you?” she called out, except she got no response. _So much for sleep,_ she thought. _He has good taste, I’ll say that._

In that moment, she dropped what she was doing and left to see what was going on. She side stepped into the room to the beat of a Kajagoogoo song, but found Flynn in her bed, out of it and flat on his stomach and sprawled out.

It turned out that Flynn just needed noise to sleep. Lack of artefacts whispering in the night made it hard for him to relax.

For a moment, her eyes hung on him. A light smile formed, disappearing shortly after realising that she was falling for the guy. Already, she had strong feelings for him, and what could she do about it? Not a damn thing. He would leave soon, she knew this. No-one ever stayed, and he had other obligations.

And now, here she was, on her knees, watching him sleep. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t do this kind of thing - being borderline creepy wasn’t like her at all — yet she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Not even when she heard the rustling of plastic bags from the kitchen. At most, she acknowledged it with an imperceptible tilt of her head, eyes still rapt on Flynn.

“Sara?” her mother called out in a tune.

She cringed, half expecting Flynn to wake up. He stirred, but that was all. Sara puffed out her cheeks, then gradually, let out her breath of relief. 

It dawned on her that this was all real. The Librarian was in her room, in her bed. In her life, for the time being. She wished it could last forever. It also occurred to her he was shirtless. Deep, blue eyes bugged at the possibility of his lower half being exposed. Disgusting? She thought so. Titillating? Definitely.

_Maybe he isn’t. Or..._

Curiosity got the better of her. She peeked under the blankets, but only found a pair of forest green boxer briefs and mismatched socks.

_Thank God!_

_Thank God?_ Sara’s inner voice echoed, dubious. _Are you still the same person?_

“Oh, shut up,” Sara grumbled to herself while she walked out the door. Once faced with seeing her parents, she put on a happy face. She had even more to hide than she usually did.

Her mother, Clara, glanced over her shoulder, remaining in the seat she occupied at the table. “Hey. Feeling better?”

She shrugged. “I guess so. Can you maybe keep it down?”

Daryl, her father, stared quizzzically at her. “Why?”

 _Oops_. “Uh, because I... ha-have a headache.”

Clara casually bit into one of Sara’s favourite American chocolate bars; _Almond Joy_. “That time of the month?” she managed through a mouthful of chocolate, almonds and coconut.

She slid her a mild gaze of indignation. _I must be on it twenty-four, seven, then._ “No, it’s not. Just don’t need this right now.”

“Need what? I just asked a question.”

_God, Flynn, wake up, wipe their memories of this whole thing and kidnap me. Please!_

Almost on cue, as though answering her inward plea, a crash came from her bedroom, followed by a tiny, pained, “Ow.”

Sara snorted and giggled, hastily concealing it after the fact.

Daryl cautiously glided toward the hallway like fog over water on an early morning. “Is there someone else here?”

“No?” she ventured, hoping it would be enough to sell it. Soon after, she was relatively certain they didn’t even _buy_ it. “No! No, it’s the television. Best shut that off!” she hastened to say, just prior to galloping down the hall and into her room. By the time she got there, Flynn was on the floor, front side up. “Oh, God, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he groaned and pushed himself up. “Rolled over too many times. Hardwood flooring, not fun to land on,” He locked eyes with a large box tucked between the wall and her dresser. “Hm.”

“Who’d’ve thought?” she sardonically said.

“Right?” He didn’t quite latch on to her sarcasm.

Sara reached out to check his noggin. “You didn’t hit your head or anything?”

Flynn recoiled and shot her a breakneck glare. “Nah! It’ll take a lot to damage to this thing,” He knocked on his skull like a plank of wood.

“I don’t know whether that’s good or bad.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he pirouetted to the box and grabbed it.

“Hey!” she admonished.

“Hello,” He took no notice of her displeasure. “What’s this?”

The more he removed the styrofoam from the box, the more sick she felt. “It’s a... picture frame.”

“I can see that. And that–“ Flynn looked away from the pictures within the frame to Sara and back again, noting the words ‘best friends’ engraved in it. “That’s you!”

“ _Very_ observant,” she sarcastically said, which, once again, went ignored.

“And next to you is your best friend. Which would make sense.”

Sara laughed in disdain. “She lost the right to call herself that the moment she abandoned me. Whatever. Can you put that away, please?”

He could relate heavily. He would have told her, except he didn’t want to bore her with the details of how so many people broke his heart. So, he changed the subject, insensitive as it might have been. “You lost weight.”

“Yes. Seriously, please–”

“Anorexia nervosa, secondary to ememtophobia,” He turned to see a blank expression on her face, suggesting he hit the mark. “Your shirt pulled up when you were reaching for the salsa. I saw the stretch marks on your lower abdomen. It’s the only other thing that can cause such rapid weight loss, and since you’re not terminally ill… And you’re lacking certain proteins, iron, specifically, which suggest a lack of meat, the main source of food poisoning. Your pallor gives it away.”

She snatched the picture frame away from him and began stuffing it back into the cardboard box. “Yeah, well, I don’t get out much,” she flatly responded.

“How long?”

“I’m working on it,” A twinge of annoyance laced her voice. “Really.”

“ _How long_?”

Sara shoved the box back where it was and sharply inhaled. “Four years. Before that, I was fine for thirteen. Stomach bug made me relapse. I don’t think about it anymore. But... it still controls me.”

He noticed her eyes welling up. _You had to be a know-it-all._ Guilt flooded over him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to strike a nerve.”

“No, it’s fine,” she said, gloominess mingling with her words. “I have to commend you for knowing about it. No-one else does.”

Flynn shrugged his shoulders. “I know a lot of things.”

“Right,” she drawled, deep in thought. Despite alarms going off in her head, all the scenarios that pointed to rough backlash from her folks, she felt compelled to let him run wild in her home. Who was she to keep someone like him down? They’d find out eventually, anyway. She smiled at him, like Mona Lisa incarnate, then offered her left hand for him to take, palm upward.

He glanced at her hand, and rather than taking it, he gave her a low-five.

She let out an airy giggle and took it upon herself to grip two of his fingers. It was all she could hold.

Stunned, all Flynn could do was stare at their intertwined fingers. At last, he spoke. “You’re holding my hand. Sort of.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you, silly,” she said, feigning adoration. Going off his petrified countenance, she thought it was best to put him at ease. “I’m _joking_. We’re going.”

“Where to?”

She motioned her head indicatively towards her open door. “Out there.”

“You’re not worried?”

“I stopped caring,” She and him just started to walk into the hall when she stopped suddenly and sternly looked into his chocolate brown eyes. “But you’re behaving yourself. No eating us out of house and home and no reading my parents. Got it?”

He nodded. “Got it.”

She half-rolled her head, attempting to ease the tension in her neck and shoulders. On the outside she might have seemed calm, but inside, she was panicking. “No matter how much I want you to...” she muttered under her breath. To her, it would have been glorious if he called them out on their flaws. Once again, she stopped in her tracks, Flynn damn near ramming into her a second time. “I just realised. I’m Sara. Though, you probably knew that, didn’t you?”

He did, but he figured he would give her at least one. His mouth worked soundlessly, uttering the word, “No.”

“Huh,” Slowly, she turned on her heels. “Somehow I don’t believe that.”

“I was trying to be charitable.”

“Yeah, well, donate to a blood drive, not to me.”

“Can’t. Too crimson, I need more calcium,” In an instant, he felt nervous the closer they got to the foyer slash kitchen. Like he was about to meet a girlfriend’s family for the first time. Technically, he _was_ , give or take a relationship label. Now he was the one doing the halting and pulled her back towards him.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I-I-I can’t do this. I-“ His eyes briefly rolled back into his skull, on the cusp of losing consciousness. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Why? They’re not gonna kill you,” She then bobbed her head back and forth like a novelty bobble head, akin to a certain Time Lord, not just the mannerisms, but her way of speaking, too. “Well, one might. Well... _will_. But I’ll protect you.”

A scoff hissed through his teeth. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I mean, ordinarily, I wouldn’t offer, but he _does_ have a gun.”

He appeared as though someone had just robbed him, taking both his courage and his words. Without magic at his fingertips, a gunshot wound would be fatal. Knowing full well he was completely screwed, he backed up and allowed her to go ahead.

“Wimp,” she grumbled.

“Yes, a wimp without magic, thank you very much. Besides, you offered.”

“I said I’d protect you, not be a human shield.”

“Shields protect.”

“Oh, would you _just_ –!“ Her words and thought trailed off after clocking the dumbfounded expressions on her parents’ faces.

In all their bickering, neither of them noticed they had been walking towards them. The two mimicked their gazes.

“Hi,” Sara managed in a shriek.

Flynn sheepishly waved, his face flushing in an instant. “Hello.”


	2. On Our Way

“Who the hell is this?” Daryl demanded.

Rather than answering, Flynn glanced down at his body. That he was all but naked finally hit him. “Probably should have put some clothes on first,” he whispered to her.

Sara laughed, tucking in a defeated sigh. “This is Flynn Carsen.”

Clara gestured to him. “Were you two–?”

“No!” she drawled, affronted.

“Thank God. He’s old enough to be your father,” Daryl folded his arms.

“Forty-one!” Flynn snapped, also in irked.

Sara rose an eyebrow, now immensely intrigued. “Really?”

Flustered and straining for the right phrasing as to not piss him off further, he stammered his words, “Wh-wha-what does it matter, anyway? She’s old enough to make her own decisions.”

Her eyebrow shot up again, this time out of chagrin. “Thank you, for that.”

“What is he doing here?” Daryl asked, emphasising each word.

“I... don’t know. Yet. I don’t even think _he_ knows.”

“I do!” he exclaimed, his pride severely hurt. He then began pacing and speaking quicker than a cartoon squirrel hopped up on caffeine. “You said it yourself, dimension skid. Only I’m _not_ in another dimension, I’m just out of place. The wrong place. _Very_ wrong. The _right_ place...” Flynn stopped and stared out a large window and slowed down considerably as grief for his lost library and artefacts struck him. “Is somewhere. Out there,” He wheeled around and kept his focus solely on Sara. “And I need your help,” he said to her, as much as he hated to admit it. Flynn breezed past her, headed to her room.

“Now?”

“Yes, now,” he replied, voice muffled from being farther away. “Come.”

“What am I, your dog?” She left her parents in a state of stupefaction.

They exchanged confused and lost gazes, unsure what to make of anything. On the other hand, they were at least grateful for their daughter’s distraction.

“What are we doing in here?” Sara watched as Flynn pulled on his mud-brown trousers and dress shoes, and slipped into his tan button-up shirt, grey waistcoat and chocolate brown blazer, the usual odd cravat missing.

“I’m just getting dressed before we head out. People tend to frown upon nakedness in public. Indecency and all that.”

“We’re going out? Now?”

“No, later. I figured we go after the next new moon,” he rejoined. “What is it with you? Don’t you understand the immediacy of the situation?”

“No, I got that.”

Flynn pulled on his blazer, straightening it out. “Good,” He waited long enough for her to put on some platform trainers, then took her tiny hand in his, nearly enveloping it, effortlessly taking her to the front door. “We need a car.”

“One with a stereo and USB port.”

“Yes, fine, whatever,” he tersely responded, waving his hands in dismissal.

“I know a rental place,” she said while grabbing her drawstring bag.

“Good a plan as any.”

“It’s fifteen miles on foot in the other direction,” Sara jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

He shrugged. “Your point?”

For a moment, all she could do was stare blankly. As the penny dropped, she knew she should have worn different shoes. She groaned like an irate teenager and stomped out the front door.

Flynn provided her parents, who were still bewildered and ignored until that point, a thin-lipped smile. “Don’t mind us. You’re obviously busy,” He nodded to the bags of groceries that had yet to be unpacked, and upon noticing a familiar rumble in his stomach, quickly snatched the package of puffy _Cheetos_ sticking out and left them gawping once more.

As he hustled down the stairs, he called out, “Wait up!”

She halted and clocked the bag of cheese covered poofs, then regarded him with slight wariness. “Really?”

“I was hungry.”

“Suppose you didn’t grab a cold _Capri-Sun_ while you were at it?”

Flynn whipped out the chilled juice pack from his pocket and handed it to her with a grin.

She let out a grateful moan while tearing the plastic off the tiny yellow straw with her teeth and spat it out, eager for the taste of the sugary fruit punch.

“Good for something,” he said.

As he went on ahead, she didn’t. Rather, she stared back at the town house she called home for the last four years, without conviction and with terror coursing through her body. She hadn’t been out of the house in months, other than shopping.

Flynn caught sight of her frozen on the spot. “What’s wrong?”

She could only muster the energy to turn her head half-way, deep blue eyes still rapt on the building. “Nothing,” she lied.

“You can stay if you want.”

“No!” After clearing her throat, she calmly reiterated, “No. I don’t want to go back to that.”

He outstretched his arm, letting her take his powdered cheese covered hand, to which she chuckled at. He wiped the dust off on his otherwise spotless blazer and tried again.

Regardless, she giggled because she thought he was adorable. Sara took his offer, smiling up at him like an idiot in love while they strolled along. “We’ll frolic through the city then, shall we?” she retorted, hiding her affection.

“I just didn’t want you getting lost. Cities can be dangerous.”

“And what are you gonna do about it, Mister No-magic?”

“I can still pack a punch.”

She snorted loudly, nearly choking on her juice.

“What?”

She coughed and strained to speak. “You didn’t do Jack back there.”

“Your mother was in the room. What was I supposed to do?”

“You know as well as I that he deserves one,” Sara bobbled her head, contemplating. “Or five.”

With a heavy heart, he nodded in agreement. “Yeah... I do.”

“But enough of that. We’re on an adventure.”

“Yes,” Flynn glanced down at the pavement, then at her big, loud shoes. “How can you walk in those?”

She looked at what he was staring at. “What, these? Months of practice,” she said, locking eyes with him.

“You can’t run in those.”

“We doing much running?”

He _was_ The Librarian; of course running was involved. It was in the job description. Running from danger or running to something. Always on the move.

“Not too late to change them.”

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “You’re starting to sound like my mum.”

“Funny, I didn’t get concern from her. Just... _unconcern_.”

“Yeah, well,” Sara sloughed off the past and present and continued on. “It hurts, but I got used to it after a few years.”

“You shouldn’t have. Had you been my daughter, I would have treated you like royalty.”

Sara’s face lit up slightly. No-one had ever said something as sweet as that to her, let alone treated her that way. Royalty? Not even her so-called friends treated her with that much respect. Ordinarily, if it had been someone she wasn’t acquainted with, she would scowl at them. Instead, she was grinning.

With a titter she said, “That would make you a king, then.”

Honestly, Flynn liked the sound of that. King Carsen. A king of loneliness and wishful thinking, more like. A king who only cares about his own well-being, a king who tended to runaway from his problems, a king who had no sense of how anyone else felt about him.

Flynn brushed at his nose, smirking as he took in the ridiculous notion, then rolled his eyes as he realized how silly it sounded. He turned to Sara. “Let’s just go.”

Sara nodded, quiet as always as they walked away together, her hand once again clasped with his.

Neither of them knew what lay ahead, what would come next, but in their minds, they were certain they were headed home. For her, a new, better home; for Flynn, the home he lost.


	3. Fun’s Over

The last two miles were torturous, and Sara honestly didn’t think she could last much longer. They had been at it for eight miles already. Sara had always felt very strong, but she quickly found that her legs were failing her, as the aching reached a nigh excruciating level. At that point, as much as she wanted to fight, there was no way that she could. She tried to beg for relief, but she didn’t have the energy for it. She was cold, tired, and hungry.

“Flynn?” Sara weakly uttered. “I know I said I wanted to go and that you needed my help, but it goes both ways, man.”

“What do you want _me_ to do?”

“Carry me.”

He stopped walking long enough to shoot her a wary gaze. “Not happening.”

Her posture slumped, sinking into despair. She couldn’t do it anymore. Her knees wouldn’t let her. With a harsh, exhausted groan, she gathered up some strength and kept going. “Huh. Chivalry _is_ dead.”

Flynn rolled his eyes. “We’re almost there!”

“ _Almost_ doesn’t put a pep in my step.”

Being out and about made her feel better, though. Seeing the sights of the city she barely saw much of any more was something she needed. She was happy for someone who was slowly losing herself — peeved and panicking, but happier than she’d ever been. Flynn was partly to thank for that.

Sara’s eyes trailed from the pavement to Flynn, where they stayed. She knew something was off about him. Something too big to fix, yet too big to ignore. Sara was suspicious. She didn’t like the future that was ahead of him. She had concerns. There was something troubling about this man. Something sinister.

“Are you feeling okay?” Sara asked, suddenly ill-at-ease.

He cast a brief glance to her before returning his focus in the direction ahead. “Yeah.”

She didn’t believe that for a second. Sara knew something was up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said again, this time slightly going up in pitch. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Sara grabbed hold of his hand and stopped him dead in his tracks. She and Flynn both stared each other in the eye for a moment, and then she spoke. “You’ll find it. It won’t be easy but... you’ll find it.”

Though, that wasn’t what she sensed. Not the only thing, at least. The problem was that she also sensed he didn’t know and didn’t want him to find out this way.

“Things never are easy,” Flynn answered. “If it were, I wouldn’t be a Librarian.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Flynn spotted the car rental building. They were just about there. “Thirty steps,” he surmised. “We can make it.”

“Then what?” she asked.

He chortled, full of enthusiasm. “I don’t have a clue. Isn’t it great?”

Sara arched an eyebrow. “Flynn, your definition of great is a lot different from mine.”

Flynn took her by the hand and whisked her away with him, all the way to the building’s front doors. He just about rammed into someone else in the queue. Despite the momentum he had going, he was able to stop himself before he did.

“Right,” he murmured, then leaned in to her ear. “Let me do the talking,” Flynn squinted his eyes, listening intently to something in the distance. “EC-One-Twenty-B.”

Soon, Sara was mimicking his appearance, but instead of deep attentiveness, it was in confusion. “What are you on about now?”

“Helicopter. EC-One-Twenty-B — I can tell by the sound of the rotors.”

“Okay,” she said with a defeated sigh. “Well, it’s San Francisco, you get used to them.”

“Seems to be circling...”

“Again–”

“Next!” a short, stocky brunette woman called out.

Sara smacked Flynn on the back. “Oi, come on. We’re up.”

“Oh, right,” Flynn coughed and rolled his shoulders to ease the tension. Even after all this time, he was still socially awkward. He reached the front desk and leaned his elbows on it. “Evening, Miss...” Flynn strained to see the woman’s name-tag at first, but got it in the end. “Doris. We need a vehicle. Two door?” He turned to Sara, checking with her.

“Whatever.”

“Don’t be too excited,” he muttered. He returned his attention to Doris and continued, “Two door, a good stereo system, USB ports and no convertible, thanks.”

The woman behind the counter gawked, too scared to speak.

Flynn’s brow furrowed. “Did I say something wrong? Ah! Vehículo de dos puertas, por favor?” He still wasn’t getting a reply. Then the penny dropped; she must have recognised him. “Ah, no. No, you must have me confused with that guy on that doctor show. I get that a lot,” Annoyed, he glanced out the glass doors behind him, at the many police cars hastily pulling up. “What in the world is going on out there? First a whirlybird and now this?” He scoffed.

It wasn’t long before Sara was copying the same look as the woman’s. “Fl– Uh, Flynn?” She tugged at the sleeve of his brown blazer.

“Yes, what is it?” His chocolate brown eyes trailed from her pointing finger to the television mounted on the wall and bulged out. There he was — there she was — on the news already. “Huh.”

“Hǎo ba, zhè bùshì wánměi de,” Sara muttered, which roughly translated from Chinese meant, ‘ _Well, isn’t this perfect_.’ She gawked at every police officer hustling out of their cars and towards the doors. “What do we do now?”

“First and foremost? _RUN_!”

Wasting no time, they sprinted for the back exit. Sara fell slightly behind. Flynn rushed back to her and picked her up as though he was carrying her over the threshold, all the while still running.

He stopped where the cars were all parked. An idea struck him, and while it may have the potential to make things worse for both of them, in that moment, he didn’t care.

Flynn plonked her down beside an old hatchback. “Nineteen-eighty-nine. Fantastic!”

Sara raked her fingers through her hair, trying to straighten it out. “Why is that fantastic?”

As he rummaged through his satchel, his response came faltering, yet quick. “Any model of vehicle... after the mid-nineties are near impossible... to hot-wire. Not _entirely_ impossible, but... difficult.”

“We’re stealing this car?”

He looked up at her, sliding her a wary gaze. “Yes, we are. Do keep up,” At last, he found what he was searching for and yanked out a flathead screwdriver. “Ha!”

“You are crazy!”

“So, stay here,” he grunted, straining to unlock the door at the same time.

“Fortunately for us both, I like crazy. Here,” She handed him the two bobby pins in her hair. “These will work better.”

Flynn was impressed by her. On the other hand, he was unsure if he should be, with her knowledge of lock picking. Nonetheless, he was grateful.

With very little effort, he unlocked the driver’s side door, and swiftly piled in. He removed the panel at the rear of the ignition tumbler and stuck the screwdriver in. “Hammer,” he said, holding out his hand. Flynn snapped his fingers when it wasn’t in his grasp soon enough.

After going through his things — some of which confused her more than anything — Sara finally got it and gave it to him.

Flynn whacked the handle end of the screwdriver once, breaking the ignition lock. “Pliers.”

“Uh... here.”

Using the pliers, he turned the screwdriver repeatedly. The car failed to start. He was hoping he didn’t have to actually hot wire it. “Where is Ezekiel Jones when you need him?”

“Who?”

Flynn ignored her and yelled at the car. “Come on!”

“Uh, Flynn? Not to put pressure on you or anything, but they’re coming!”

He twisted one last time, groaned in frustration and let his head hit the steering wheel. Once it did, the car miraculously started. He wheezed out a laugh. “Heh-hey! We’re fifty percent less likely to die.”

“What’s the other fifty?” Sara wondered.

“We... crash. Grab my bag, let’s go!” Flynn leaned over to unlock the passenger side door. “All good?”

She nodded. “You still don’t know what you’re doing, do you?”

“Nope.”

Without another thought, Flynn cranked the steering wheel hard in both directions, unlocking the steering column. As soon as he heard it break, he floored it and whizzed past several officers who were on foot, and a few more who hadn’t gotten out of their vehicles yet, leaving them in the dust.

“O-ho-kay,” Sara uttered, terrified as she held on to the handle on the roof of the car with one hand and her flip-flopping stomach with the other. “Pull over.”

“I don’t know if I can. Or if I can, I don’t know it’ll start back up again.”

“Oh, great,” Sara chucked her drawstring bag in the backseat. “Do we at least know where we’re going?”

“Honestly?” Flynn shook his head.

“Are you kidding me?” she demanded.

“I told you, I’m out of place! If I knew how to get back on track–” Out of nowhere, his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “Oh, my God, I don’t know what to do.”

“Flynn?”

“I always know what to do!”

“Are you okay?”

Over and over, he said, “Oh, God,” His breathing quickened, his hands and feet tingled, and at any second, he felt like he might pass out. “I’m... failing.”

“Flynn??”

Flynn’s eyes crossed and then shut. He flopped back in his seat, limp as a boiled noodle. He was out cold.

Sara attempted to gain control of the car, however, Flynn’s relaxed body made it difficult. She felt sick. She didn’t plan on dying this way. But plans change.

A brown brick building was in her sights and only getting closer. She made a ninety-degree turn on a dime, but it didn’t matter. They were just headed for another building, head-on.

_Okay_ , she thought. _I could do it before, and I can do it again_. Sara put her arm out in front of Flynn, while the other stuck out straight ahead. She tightly shut her eyes, clenched her jaw and prayed to a higher power that it would work.

The car came to a screeching halt, teetering on the left tyres a moment before falling back down flat with a heavy bang. That was when Sara popped open her eyes. She did it. She stopped the accident from happening.

Sara chortled and grinned widely. “I did it. _Ha-ha!_ ” Her joy ended abruptly when she saw Flynn and remembered he was unconscious. “Oh, hey. Hey, Flynn?” She tapped his cheek. “Flynn!”

He croaked out indecipherable gibberish before whimpering, “I want snickerdoodles, Mom.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. It died off when the sound of distant sirens came along. “Flynn, wake up. We gotta go.”

Chocolate brown eyes shot open. Flynn let out a muffled gag, twice before he stumbled out of the car and fell to his knees. He started retching on the spot, so much so that head was pounding; he couldn’t hear Sara calling out to him.

Sara couldn’t move; too scared to. At that point, all she wanted to do was run, but she couldn’t leave him either.

_It’s all right. You can do this. He isn’t contagious. Right?_

_No_. _Why would he be? It came after a panic attack and being jostled around in a car._

At least, that was what she told herself. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and then finally, slowly, turned exited the car and knelt beside him.

No vomit actually came up, which was a good sign. For her, anyway.

Hesitantly, unsure of what else to do, she patted him on the back. “You’re shaking,” Sara quavered.

“Mm...” was all he could say. His eyes could barely stay open and his limbs were about to give in.

She knew firsthand how debilitating this was for him, how miserable he felt. She was right there with him. Sara stopped patting and started rubbing, which caused him to flinch. “Shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, it’s just me.”

Never two steps away from a panic attack, he always said. Those last few minutes were the two steps. Only he didn’t think this would happen. Fleeing, maybe. Crying, definitely. Becoming petrified stone, as if he gazed at Medusa herself? He didn’t expect that.

The sirens stopped. Through a patch of her brown hair covering her eyes, Sara could make out an ambulance and several police cars before having her sight torn away by Flynn trying and failing to sit up. She caught him just before he could fall backwards to the asphalt. “I’ve got you, sweetie. I’ve got you,” she whispered and put her hand over his chest. In an instant, she felt his heart pounding away. “Just breathe. Nice and slow, okay?”

Lethargically, he nodded and strived to calm down. Bleary eyes caught a glimpse of EMTs coming for them. “Fun’s over...” he said, his voice sluggish.

Sara burst into laughter, nervous, yet also relieved he was joking around. “Yeah,” Her lips pressed against the back of his head, never kissing him, then rested her cheek against it. “Yeah.”


	4. Trust the Librarian

Flynn had always hated hospitals, ever since his mother died. The sights and sounds of this room vexed him; monitor beeps, distant murmurs of medical staff and the moans and screams of sick, dying patients. The illusion that everything would be fine in this room was just that: an illusion. He knew better than that.

He caught Sara staring intently at the heart monitor. “I’m not going to flatline, you know. It’s impossible for me.”

She snapped back into reality. “I thought you were sleeping,” she said.

“No. Couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’ve just been… spacing out,” He eyed her, noting the small amount of fear in her deep blue eyes. “Are you okay?”

“ _Hah!_ You pass out, damn near getting us into a wreck–”

Flynn’s eyes bugged out. “I did? I was only joking about that.”

“– Crumple to the ground in a panicking mess, and you’re asking _me_ if I’m okay?”

He shrugged as best as he could with multiple pillows under his head and neck. “I care.”

She gave him a thin-lipped smile while taking hold of two of his fingers. “I know. I’m all right. I’m more worried about you.”

“It was just a panic attack.”

Sara slid Flynn a dubious look. “Flynn, as someone who suffers from generalised anxiety, I know it’s never _just_ a panic attack, mate. What’s the matter?”

He breathed in deep, trying to find the words to convey what he was feeling. He felt a lot of things; scared, tired, queasy, annoyed… In the end, he was able to pinpoint one: lost. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. I’ve always been so sure, and now? I don’t know. And that terrifies me.”

“The unknown,” she said, almost sounding lost in thought, though she was very much at the moment. She could relate to him. “Welcome to the club.”

Following a sharp inhale, he put forth the question that had been poking at him since he got there. “Did you call me a sweetie earlier?”

“I did. Too much?” Sara winced in anticipation of his answer. She knew it would freak him out.

“No, it’s just– It’s new.”

“Well, I can’t help it,” She shifted in her seat a bit and avoided eye contact. “I mean, you are one. I think?”

“I try to be.”

She smiled once more, briefly. “Look, I know I don’t know you that well, but… I feel like I do, on some level. If that makes sense. So, instinct told me to call you that.”

Flynn put his other hand on top of hers and looked her kindly in the eyes. “I don’t hate it. Really. It’s just I’ve been called everything else _but_ that. I’m not used to it.”

“Not even by girlfriends?”

Ah, yes. Girlfriends. Just hearing the word made him feel like he was getting stabbed by Excalibur all over again. A small twitch of his lips was enough to tell her she struck a nerve.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine,” It wasn’t. “On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t call me that anymore, all right? I don’t want you to get attached.”

_It’s a little late for that, sweetie_ , she thought. _You have no idea._

“Anyway! I need to get out of here,” Flynn swung one leg over the edge of the bed, then the other and got up. “I can’t– Ahhhh-haaa aye, aye, aye, that hurts!” He slapped his hand on his lower back and massaged it.

“What does?”

“My… back. Am I bleeding?” Flynn turned around for her to check.

She shook her head. “Just skin. And a lot of freckles.”

“Oh, yeah,” he responded, giggles tucked into his words. “You could play _Connect the Dots_ back there. Seriously, though, nothing?” He strained to look at it himself.

“Nothing but a red splotch where you rubbed,” she lied. True, there was nothing on the surface, but inside of him was something that not even a doctor could explain. It was the kind of thing that would have landed him in a testing facility, and for that reason, she kept her mouth shut on the subject. “Kidney stone maybe?” Sara offered.

“Oh,” he sighed. “That _would_ be my luck. My once brilliant mind is mush, my mental health is shambolic, why not?” Flynn stared up and shouted at the heavens, “Bring it on, you merciless bastards!”

Even though she was snickering at him, Sara still acted serious and folded her arms. “Is this the sound of giving up I hear coming from you, Mister Flynn Carsen?”

“I don’t know what else to do. I’m out of ideas.”

“Well, maybe it’s the– Haa! Hahaha!” Sara caught herself before going further. Loudly, she coughed and redirected her thought. “Hey, how ‘bout you get back into bed,” Sara eased him in and covered him up. “I’ll see about getting you discharged, and we’ll go from there. Yeah?”

The manic expression on her face made Flynn more than a tad uncomfortable. “Did they give you something?”

“Me? Nah! You know my phobia won’t let me,” That was the first truth out of her in the last minute. “I’ll, uh–” She jerked her head back, towards the door and left without another word.

He sat there, watching her go, perplexed, to say the least. He shook it off and mumbled to himself. “And they say _I’m_ the weird one.”

* * *

“You don’t understand,” Sara insisted to the doctor. “He’s going crazy,” _Going? Nice one._ She sloughed her thought off. “It was just a panic attack, he’s fine now.”

As the Doctor flipped through Flynn’s chart, he told her, “We’re waiting on the police. They’ll want to ask some questions.”

Blankly, she stared at him. “Heh?”

“I don’t know the details, Miss Wheeler, but it sounds bad.”

“Listen, Doctor…”

“Greene.”

She chuckled. “Your first name wouldn’t happen to be Mark, would it?”

“It is, actually.”

Once again, her countenance was expressionless, but laughing on the inside. “Right, well, let me know when they get here, eh?”

“Will do,” he said and excused himself.

Sara lingered a moment before sprinting back to Flynn’s room, except something got in the way yet again: her parents. “Mum?”

“Oh, Sara, honey!” Clara exclaimed, following a gasp. “They told us you were here, but I didn’t want to believe it. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. _Giddy_ , even,” she said, sounding anything but that. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re taking you home,” Daryl sternly stared at her. “Where that–” He struggled to find an adjective to describe Flynn and gave up. “Where you’ll be safe.”

“Safe, right… And you’re such a proponent of protection, aren’t you?” Sara’s eyes shifted to the side, thinking. “Ooh. I see why he likes that so much. He’s rubbing off on me already. Or I _am_ him. Tell me,” She suddenly donned an American accent and absently rubbed her the fingers of her right hand together. “Do I look tired? I don’t feel tired. Although Baird keeps telling me I am, and that I need her, but–” A single guffaw burst out of her. “What does she know?” she rasped. “I’ve been the Librarian for ten years! _I’m fine!_ ”

Clara’s eyes shrunk, weasel small. “ _Are_ you?”

“Oh, yes! I am perfectly peachy. Absolutely all right. Extremely ecstatic. I can’t stop!”

She took Sara’s hand, or whoever’s hand it belonged to. “Maybe we should go…”

“No! No, I _am_ fine,” Bit by bit, her inner-Flynn faded. “I– He’s in here,” she said and pointed to her temple. “Already he– I-I can’t leave him. He needs me. I’m sorry. I can’t,” Her voice quavered.

One last time, she apologised, and when she turned to run, she almost crashed into a nurse. Without another word, Sara squeezed by her, hurried back to where Flynn was and barged in through the door, once again, appearing hysterical. “We need to go!”

Flynn leapt out of bed. “Excellent plan. But where can we go?”

“Anywhere but here,” Sara grabbed the plastic bag that held his belongings. “The police are on their way, and you’ll most likely be arrested.”

“Arrested? What did I do?!”

“Kidnapping, stealing a car…”

He was silent for a few seconds, harking back to those dreadful moments he blocked out. “Oh, that!”

“Yes,” she drawled in her Welsh accent. “So, think! Use that big brain of yours. How did you get here in the first place?”

It hit him harder than a shot of tequila. “The back door...”

“Well, we can’t go back to mine. They’re expecting that.”

“No, not _your_ back door. _The_ back door. To The Annex,” He face-palmed. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“It’ll pass in a few months…” _Dammit, shut up!_ Sara grimaced.

“What will?”

“What?”

Flynn waved off the current conversation, such as it was, and got on his feet once more. He cringed as he ripped out his IV. “Never mind! We need a door.”

Sara pointed at the one she came in through just seconds ago.

“Ah, that works. Again, why didn't I–? Doesn't matter!” Flynn held out his hand for her to take. “You coming?”

Begrudgingly, she took it. “This isn’t gonna hurt, is it?”

“Not unless you run into the wall on the other side.”

She snorted, but then it occurred to her that he might not have been joking. “Guess I’ll be mindful of my footing. So, what, we just think of where we need to be and we're there?”

“Pretty much.”

“And you’re going dressed like that?”

“Are you going to keep asking questions or are you coming with me?”

“Ye-yeah. I am, yeah,” She felt a shiver down her spine, the idea of visiting the fabled Annex made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Still, she had one last question. “Do I have to think, too, or–?”

“Just… hush,” he answered, becoming cross with her. He shut his eyes.

Following a deep breath, Flynn opened his eyes and the door, and within the door frame was the familiar bright blue glow. It made Sara uneasy. Paranoid, for some unknown reason.

She latched on to his arm. “Flynn?”

“It’s okay,” He had an assuring smile on his face. “I’ve got you, too.”

They strolled through hand in hand, and in the time it took them to take one step out of the exam room, they arrived in the Annex.


	5. Annex

The two stumbled about like drunk people for a second. It seemed to take more of a toll on Sara than it did on Flynn, however.

Sara tumbled to her hands and knees.

Flynn held her loosely by her sides, keeping her steady. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She barely got the chance to nod when Flynn took off screaming for someone called Jenkins. “I just... need a– Would you stop doing that? You’re making me dizzy with your running about.”

He stopped on a dime. “Sorry,” Flynn then shouted, “JENKINS!”

“I don’t think Jenkins is home. Whoever that is.”

“Impossible! He’s always home, the hermit. Jenkins!”

At last, a tall, semi-long, silver-haired gentleman in a navy blue suit and polka dotted bow tie came down the winding staircase with an indignant air about him. “What is going–?” His thought dropped off when he saw a young woman, Sara, on all fours and Flynn in a hospital gown and fuzzy slipper socks. “Who in the fresh hell is this? And why are you dressed like that?”

“Told you not to go like that,” she said to Flynn.

“ _Obviously_ ,” Flynn uttered hoarsely, put off and gesturing wildly. “I was in the hospital.”

“No! Really?” Jenkins sardonically asked, feigning surprise.

Flynn turned to Sara, giving her a knowing nod, the other person whose default setting was sarcastic. “You two will hit it off nicely,” he remarked.

Jenkins waltzed up to him, stopping just short of a foot in front of him. “Flynn, we _cannot_ have people from the outside world coming here. You know this.”

“Would you relax?” He patted Jenkins’ shoulder, almost patronisingly, and headed to a back room. “We’re just making a pit stop. I need a shower — hospitals. _Ugh!_ “

“Yeah,” Sara uttered, tittering. “I might join you,” Clocking the ambivalent expression on his face, somewhere between slightly mortified and extremely confused, she quickly changed her response. “Uh! I mean, join in on that... thought. Yeah. Wait, this place has a shower?”

“I know what you want to say,” Flynn peered past one of the Annex’s pillars and stared at her. “It’s bigger on the inside!” He turned a corner and disappeared through a red door.

Sara hustled after him, carefully, in her platform trainers. “Is it?”

Jenkins rolled his eyes, threw his hands in the air and let them flop to his sides. “Why, yes, by all means. Make yourself at home,” he muttered.

“We will!” Flynn shouted back. “Anyway, no. It just looks that way. The Library, however!” He turned on his heels. “Just you wait,” Then he continued on down the way. “There is only one shower, one bedroom–”

“Which is mine!” Jenkins interjected from downstairs.

“– We’ll sleep somewhere else. _But_ , after I’ve gotten squeaky clean, you can wash up and change clothes.”

Her eyes narrowed, inwardly wondering where she would get such a thing. “Clothes?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Now that they arrived, Flynn yanked open the door, pirouetted and faced her a second. “See you in five minutes,” he said and backed into the room.

After the door shut in her face, she demanded, “Who the hell can get clean in five minutes?” She didn’t get an answer, so she waited outside, leaning sideways against the wall.

Sara reached in the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a few pieces of folded paper; it was Flynn’s hospital chart. She studied it carefully, going over each word twice. Then she saw the blood test results. A particular set of tests normally not done on a man, but she insisted that he’d have it done and quick.

Once she laid eyes on the result, she shrieked and then swiftly covered her mouth.

“I’m right,” Sara chortled. It took a second for it to sink in. “Oh, God. I’m right.”

“Is everything all right?” Jenkins called out.

“Y-yeah. Everything’s… peachy,” she said. A smile tried to form, but it scared her to be happy for him. What if it didn’t work out? What if he went into hysterics?

She heard the water shut off. There was only one way to find out how he would react, and she knew it. Sara drew in a long breath and spoke. “Hey, Flynn?”

“I just got out. Can you give me two minutes?” he snapped.

“No, it’s not that. I– I have something to tell you.”

“Can it wait? I’m busy feeling bubbles.”

“Actually, no. It can’t. It–” Flynn‘s words finally dawned on her. “Wait, what do you mean bubbles?”

“It’s probably nothing. It already–” Before he could finish answering, she came blew into the room, prompting him to cover up with a towel. “Do you mind?”

Sara ignored his irked stare and fixed her gaze on his bare chest, then snapped it away and focused only on his face. “It’s funny, I expected more… hair. Anyway, what were you talking about? Bubbles?”

“It was more of a flutter, but it was just gas. Nothing to worry about.”

“Uh-huh. Come here, let me check you over.”

“What is there to check over?” Flynn asked.

Sara stared at him for a long time. Her breathing seemed to synced up with his. For the first time, she could actually appreciate him; his intense, brown eyes, every freckle on his face, the scar on his chin… Everything. He was truly something else. At that point she got lost in his eyes; she saw so much fear, so much despair and anguish in them. The corner of her mouth twitched, then she donned a hesitant smile. “You’ll be okay,” she whispered.

His eyes narrowed and furrowed his brow. “Was there any doubt?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “No, it’s just… good to finally see you.”

“Well,” A smile tugged at Flynn’s thin, pink lips, and he waved at her. “Here I am.”

“Yeah. There you are,” she said, her voice flat, almost absent-minded in the presence of him. Longing pooled within her, aching deep down. Deep blue eyes rapt on his lips, then slowly moving over his chin. She wanted to know him, wanted to touch him. Even if it was just a hug.

Except there was someone else. Someone who was beautiful and made her feel ugly, just like a silly school-girl who felt flattered by her teacher’s attention but did not understand how to deal with it. She felt a fool.

This realization brought her back down from cloud nine, but before long, she felt shame knowing that her fantasies were a sin of self-indulgence.

_Even if she weren’t here, w hy would he want me, anyway?_ Sara thought.

Her lack of words worried Flynn. She was always talking. He inclined his head until his eyes met with hers. “Sara? Hello??” he sang out.

Sara snapped to attention. “What? Oh, yeah. I needed to tell you something, didn’t I?”

“Evidently.”

She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You know what, it, uh– It can wait until later. I’m sorry. I–” She paused to take a deep, composure collecting breath. “I’ll give you a minute,” Sara put one foot out of the door; it wasn’t long before she turned back into the room. “What did you mean when you said that it was impossible?”

Flynn stared as if she just managed to speak in a language he didn’t know. “What?”

“Back at the hospital, you said it was impossible for you to flatline. What did you mean by that?” 

“Oh, yeah. I can’t die,” he nonchalantly said. “Well, actually I could, but with the magic I know, it’s nigh impossible.” 

“Ah, of course,” Her tone was both sarcastic, yet also boding. “Good thing because I don’t think I could… stand to lose you now,” she said, this time more serious-minded, if not a little solemn. “Not after– Anyway, I should go.”

Flynn gave her a curt nod. “Right. I won’t be long.”

“I know. They never are,” In an instant, she heard herself and knew just how crazy she must have sounded. Honestly, she didn’t even know what she meant, except that maybe, in a way, she was saying that the good things that came along in her life never lasted forever. But it was only a guess. Sara shook off her disjointed thoughts. “Sorry, I’m going mad, I think. Tired.”

“You seem like it. I know a place where we can crash, if you’d rather clean up and rest there.”

“As long as there are no...” Sara made an effort to come up with some sort of dangerous thing to occur when she would be around him, but the truth was, it could have been anything. She eventually spat something out. “Aliens, that sounds good.”

Flynn tilted his head for a second time. “Sara,” he said with a tut. “It’s never aliens.”

“You say that now...”

“Just go. Let me dry off and dress up. I’m freezing.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she mumbled on her way out.

Once the door shut, Sara let herself feel, and as soon as she felt, her shoulders trembled. She shivered with an ache in her chest. She gasped for breath; unsure if she was tired or just nervous. Her fondness for him became more than a little frightening, so she drew in a long breath and lowered her head. Slowly she sank back against the door. Her shoulders were now beginning to relax as it released some of its tension. It was then that she realised just how tired and sore she was. How stupid she was.

_This isn’t happening_ , she inwardly said.

Sooner than she thought, she heard the shuffling of feet behind her and the door swung open, leaving nothing but air at her back. She fell backwards, but Flynn caught her and held her up only just.

“You okay, kiddo?” he asked.

_Kiddo?_ he echoed in his mind. _She’s only eleven years younger than I am._

“I’m fine, Flynn,” she said, not taking into account that he called her ‘kiddo’ of all things. She was too busy drawing in the amazing scent of his musky cologne through her nose. It was almost orgasm inducing.

Flynn helped her to her feet, brushed off any dust that may have been on her and fixed her hair. It perplexed her, and seeing this, he promptly stopped. “Sorry.”

Nevertheless, she kept the same dazed grin on her face since he held her, coming out of her trance enough to say something intelligible. “Thank you, sweetie,” Soon after she walked off, she whirled around, her smile replaced with a grimace. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said. “I was being twit back there. You can call me that.”

“Really?”

With a heavy nod, he stuck out his arm in a hook for Sara to link hers with. “Shall we?”

Sara observed his stance a moment and her upper body lurched with a semi-stifled, airy chuckle. Her arm intertwined with his. “Yeah, we shall.”


	6. Home

Once they stepped through, they wound up in a brand-new place. Pale-green striped wallpaper lined the walls, and old family photos made going up the staircase more interesting. The floral-printed sofa in the next room and lace curtains gave it an old, homey feel. No TV, but there was a stereo with a record player.

Sara was about to ask where they were when she saw a familiar face in one of the framed pictures on the mantle. It was Flynn, just younger — maybe sixteen.

She bit her lip to keep from snickering at the sweet nerd while studying it. “Cute kid.”

Flynn tilted his head as he, too, looked. “You think so?”

“Yeah. You’re cute as a button.”

“Oh, yeah, well there’s no doubt about that,” Flynn’s smugness faded. “But… _you_ think I am?”

Sara warmly smiled. “Yeah. I do.”

A lovely scarlet flush coloured Flynn’s vanilla, freckled complexion. To hear Sara, of all people, found him cute was enough to make his brain just about fizzle out of working order.

“Are we at your mum’s place?” she asked.

He heard her voice, though her words came muffled. He had to snap out of his thoughts, collect himself, and respond before she would’ve assumed he was having a stroke or something. “Sorry?”

“Is this your mum’s?”

“Oh, yeah, it is. Or… _was_. I couldn't bring myself to sell it.”

“That’s sweet,” Sara thought aloud. “It’s nice here. Very… home. If that makes sense.”

The flicker of a grin passed his thin lips, glad to know that she was calm enough to consider this place as home. They'd probably have to spend a lot of time here. “It does,” he said.

“So, why are we _here_?”

Flynn dropped his satchel to the living-room floor with a loud _whap_. “It’s the safest place I know. And I needed to contemplate. This is where I come to do that, so, here we are.”

“You must come here a lot then?” she ventured.

“Yes,” He drew up a shallow breath, then sharply let it out. He’d rather not go into it more if he could avoid it. “The, uh… shower’s upstairs, and there’s food in the kitchen if you get hungry.”

“Later. _Much_ later,” Sara’s posture slumped. “I’m more tired than anything else,” she moaned. “I think I’ll just clean up and go to bed, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Fair enough. I’ll be awake if you need me.”

“Contemplating.”

Flynn leaned inward, closer to her. “Yes. Which I can’t do with you hanging around, distracting me with your–” He coughed drummed his chest with his fingers and shuffled his feet, gazing down at them as he did, then at her in her deep blue eyes. “Just go.”

She gave him a traditional Polish salute. “Yes, sir,” she responded, and headed up the stairs.

Along the way, she passed a couple of bedrooms. One, in particular, caught her eye. She ambled in, flipped the switch, and the wallpaper came to life. More off-yellow, striped this time. Multiple diplomas hung on the walls where bookshelves didn't occupy. She glanced at a chair which more books rested on. Books were everywhere, to be honest. Even the floor.

A low hum emitted from her, and she grinned. “Flynn…”

Sara moved further into the room, avoiding stepping on his belongings, then got on his bed. Her arms flailed a moment before she got her balance. She stood there in the middle, taking in her surroundings. Being there made her eyes well up. It was as if every moment he spent there, crying and alone, screamed from the walls and echoed in her mind.

After closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath, she took a moment to think. She rubbed her hands together and rolled her shoulders, relaxed and let everything take her. Then her eyes opened, and she stared at the wall of diplomas in front of her. _Full-time student_ , she thought. _Just how smart was he?_ Here she was with no certificates. He was making her look bad. But instead of being jealous, or even angry, she was proud of Flynn. He did everything she wished she could, and she could live vicariously through him. In more ways than one.

Sara Wheeler was an empath. She sensed things on an extremely high level, connected with others better than most empaths, and on rare occasions, she even emulated the person she was most linked with. It already happened in the hospital. In truth, she couldn't think of a better person to be. Herself? Probably. But she was boring. Flynn Carsen had more energy. More confidence. That was the kind of person she _should_ be. She would have been if it weren't for her parents thwarting her progress as a human being.

“Course,” she said in an American accent. “It would be _more_ impressive if I had a medical degree,” Sara bobbed her head side to side. “Not that I didn't _try…_ Took one step inside the room, saw blood and ran out to puke,” Now _that_ sounded familiar to her. She snorted and snickered. “You get used to it,” she spoke again, her usual southern Welsh inflection returning. She threw her head back and groaned. “God, stop it!” Sara snapped at herself, and jumped down from Flynn’s bed. “You're gonna come off as schizophrenic or something.”

Sara rubbed her temples, took another deep breath, and padded towards the hall bathroom. When she’d gotten inside, she flicked on the water, almost on full hot. The shower went on for about a minute, and the sound of water splashing against glass seemed to deepen Sara’s smile. She moved to the mirror and looked in, praying that her reflection looked nearly identical to her own in the mirror. Still herself, unfortunately.

With a sigh, she watched the reflection for a few moments before removing her shirt. Then she peeled off everything else and threw her clothes into an unruly pile on the floor and stepped into the shower. She enjoyed the feeling of water streaming over her body. It was almost orgasm inducing. She revelled in the warmth. Her skin turned pink already. An extensive roll of her shoulders made the water hit just the right spot.

She stood there a few moments longer after washing up and rinsing off, then got out, dried her hair off and then walked back to Flynn’s bedroom, stark naked. After rummaging through his old clothes in the dresser, she eventually found a sweatshirt that had “I love pi” written on the front. She admired it and put it on, then set off down the stairs in nothing else but the pullover she was too small for. Thankfully, it covered where it needed to.

Flynn perked up when he heard her coming downstairs. He set down the book he was studying and called out, “Feeling better?”

“Much,” she said, and entered the room, making her way to the cupboards for a glass. Noticing the Librarian's dumbfounded stare, she cocked her head. “What?”

Flynn could not peel his gaze off her. Seeing her, half naked, in one of his shirts, his thoughts wouldn’t line up. Every time he tried to align one, it tumbled down, scattering the rest. He didn’t think he could even speak. He wanted to, though. Maybe about how attractive he found her? Perhaps that she looked great, at least? Swallowing courage by the glassful, he let the words finally slip through his lips. “I thought you were going to bed.”

_Smooth. Idiot._

“I was just getting some water,” she replied. “Where am I sleeping, anyway?”

"My mother’s room. If that’s okay. Otherwise, it’s the…” Flynn motioned his head to the sofa.

“Yeah, no. That’s fine,” It wasn’t. “I’m okay with that.” She really wasn’t.

“Okay. I just figured you wouldn’t want to–”

“No, I get that. No worries,” She stewed in the salty broth of disappointment. Granted, if she was in the same bed as him, she wouldn’t do anything about it, except maybe snuggle. Having some form of human contact that didn’t necessarily have to involve sex was all she needed. Sara yawned and said, “I should go to bed now. I guess.”

“Good idea. Me?” Flynn set his each palm on two short towers of books. “I’ve got work to do.”

“Need any help with that?”

“Not unless you want to figure out a way to get my Library back,” he said, sighing.

“Wasn’t that the point of taking me with you?”

“All right, Sara,” Flynn leaned forward, his fingers laced before him on the tabletop. “Thoughts?” 

Ideas bounced inside her head like tiny rubber balls as she masticated. She grabbed one and with a snap of her fingers, she offered it to Flynn. “Inter-dimensional gate!”

“That…” Flynn had his curiosity aroused, his eyebrow arched and mouth downturned. He was impressed with her suggestion. “Might actually work. If I knew where one was and how to open it.”

“If only I could,” she mused. “I’m not as smart as you, with your… What is it? Twenty degrees?” 

“Twenty-two,” he swiftly corrected as he opened one of the books. “Would’ve been twenty-three, if–” Flynn stopped there before he got upset. He'd rather not reopen that particular can of worms. “Look, I need to focus, and, _again_ , you’re distracting me.”

“Right, right. Bed. But you should go too. Don’t want you overworking that fabulous brain of yours.”

He snickered, a grin reaching cheek to cheek. “Never.”

Confused, she narrowed her eyes. “You’ll never go to bed or you’ll never overwork your brain?”

“Yes.”

She slid him a mildly reprimanding gaze. “Flynn.”

“Sara,” he parried in an equally admonishing intonation.

“I realise you’re a veritable man-child and all–”

“Says the thirty-year-old woman who had their hair in pigtails earlier,” he countered with his eyes glued to the book’s pages.

She gritted her teeth for control. It was all she could do to not throttle him. Another deep breath, and she calmed down, to an extent. “You know what? You go to bed whenever the hell you feel like it,” she said, then headed back upstairs.

“Thanks. _Mom_!” Flynn shouted to her.

Sara shot him a glare, one foot on the hardwood floor, the other on the first step. Though she didn’t speak, her death gaze said enough.

Flynn tried to avoid it, eyes darting everywhere else but her. “Sorry,” he said with a clear of his throat.

“Mm-hm,” Sara uttered, and ascended up to the bedroom. She then mumbled, “I’m sure you are.”


	7. Late Nights and Frilly Things

After having spent the better part of the last three hours tossing and turning, Sara gave up and get out of bed. She glanced across the hall at an empty bedroom where she assumed Flynn would be. Her stomach dropped. Did something happen to him? She didn’t want to think about it.

She hustled downstairs, calling out for him, but got no answer. Now she was getting anxious. “Flynn? You here?”

Finally, she found him, right where he was when she retreated to the bedroom, sitting at the table with the side of his face on its surface, books and papers surrounding him. He was out cold, drooling on some pages of an otherwise empty notebook.

His body shivered — chilly, no doubt. Sara eyed a throw blanket and plucked it off the sofa, then draped it over Flynn. If she could move him to a more comfortable place, she would. Her muscles wouldn’t allow it.

For a while, she watched him sleep, careful not to make a sound. It was the second time she had. She couldn’t help it. Flynn was adorable. Though there was no doubt in Sara’s mind that if he was in bed with her, his snoring and drooling would most likely piss her off. But thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

Figuring he’d be more comfortable in bed, Sara found herself crouched down in front of her Librarian. It took some nudging from her to get Flynn up.

With a snort, his eyes peeled open. Through bleary vision, he saw her, barely. “Mmm… Hi.”

Sara simply smiled in response, almost a reflex.

Flynn quickly retracted his eyes and glanced at the wall, trying to reorient his vision. “What time is it?”

“Three-fifty-one. How ‘bout we get you to bed?”

He ran a hand through his mussed hair and stretched. Soon after, his neck and shoulder shrieked at him for lying like that for so long, and decided a sharp cramp was a valid punishment.

“Oof, yeah. Bed it is,” she said as she helped him out of the chair. “Poor old thing.”

“ _Old_?” Flynn echoed in affront.

“Figure of speech.”

“Call me old,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll show you old.”

“All right,” Sara drawled. “Not even awake a minute and already you’re annoying.”

Once they made it to Fynn’s bedroom, he flopped down front first onto his bed. Now getting his second wind, he swiftly pushed himself up and sat cross-legged, staring at Sara. “I’m not even tired anymore. Maybe I should–” Before he could fully stand up, she shoved him back down. “Hey!”

“You need to rest. You and I have a lot of work to do today. I need to change clothes,” Sara brandished her hands over her body, then glanced at herself in the mirror. “And my hair… and we need to figure out our plan.”

“We have a plan,” Flynn said. “Get back The Library.”

Sara stood with her hands on her hips. “Yeah. How?” Flynn’s lack of a response, other than his gaping mouth, told her that he had no clue. “Exactly. Go to sleep, Librarian.”

After she left, Flynn shot a dirty look at her back. With a sigh, he crumbled down onto the mattress once more, his eyes fixed on the ceiling where they’d stay for the next seven hours.

Flynn’s brain refused to recognise that it was time to rest and recuperate. All he could think about was how he left things with Baird. They parted ways with a kiss — a kiss that he now questioned the meaning of since meeting Sara — and there was a promise made: find the Library. Something he also doubted. It wouldn’t be easy, finding something lost in another dimension, but he had to try.

By the eighth hour, _still_ wide awake, Flynn rolled out of bed and sauntered across the hall to the other bedroom where he caught sight of Sara cutting off the last bit of hair she had, sporting a short boy-cut, reminiscent of a doctor’s from a popular nineteen-nineties medical show. He kind of liked it on her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him standing in the doorway. It wasn’t until she finished chopping off her hair that she completely gazed at him. “Oh, hey,” She pointed to her head. “Hair was driving me mad, so I… Well, you know. Just need to strip the colour out.”

“Have you been to sleep at all?”

“Nope. And judging by the droopy, red eyes, neither have you.”

Flynn moaned. “No. I couldn’t shut off my mind. Happens sometimes.”

“Well, shall we–?” Sara jerked her head towards the door. Going off the nod of agreement, she said, “I’ll just get dressed then.”

* * *

One leisurely walk later, they arrived at a clothing shop that Sara was ecstatic to go to. It was one of those chains that Flynn assumed had closed down after the twenty-tens, but lo-and-behold, there it was. There was something to be said about a store named after marine life. Flynn eyed it skeptically, but opted to follow her in, anyway.

They went inside, the ringing of their bell announced their arrival, and a hushed discussion ensued in the small, cramped space, while music from the early two-thousands played out of tiny speakers in the ceiling. It was as if they wanted to keep the aesthetic of this place alive. That or he time travelled without realising it again.

“I’ve been in sleeping bags comfier than this,” he griped.

“Shush,” Suddenly, Sara gasped at a mini-dress that caught her eye. A shimmering silver dress with spaghetti straps. “Ohh, I need this!” she rasped in a drawl.

Flynn winced. “Why, exactly?”

“Dunno. Just do. Oooh!” A chequered crop-top with the word ‘ _Honey_ ’ written on it in red snared her attention. “I know I don’t have the mid-drift for this, but…”

“It’s eighteen dollars?” he demanded, practically insulted by it.

“Eh, being a Librarian pays well. Right?”

“Not that well.”

With a shrug, she swiped a pair of yellow trousers with blue stripes down the side. Twenty-five bucks.  
  
“Sara?”  
  
She peered over the rack of shirts. “Yo.”  
  
“You’re not going to buy an _entire_ wardrobe, are you?”  
  
“Nah. Now that wouldn’t be fair. Just–” Then she saw a hot-pink lace nightie. “Need this!”  
  
As she held it up, Flynn gawked at it. “It’s… see-through.”

“I know. I don’t even have a reason for it,” Regardless, she added it to the increasing pile of clothes she made Flynn carry. “We have the money for this, right?”

“Yeah,” A muscle in his jaw twitched as he scowled at the clothes he plonked down at the checkout counter, then muttered under his breath, “Just not for food any more.”

* * *

They left for home, plastic bags in each of Sara’s hands, while Flynn’s were busy articulating as he thought to himself.

Eventually, he felt the need to talk out those thoughts. “Inter-dimensional gate… How could we do it?”

Sara whirled around but kept walking, shooting a bewildering wince. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing, nothing. So tell me,” Flynn said. “Why are your parents so determined to keep me away from you?”

“Because they don't like what they don't understand,” A shrug issued from her shoulders, just about hindering her shaking head. “Or they don’t want me to be happy. Take your pick.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Sara strode out in front of Flynn and stopped. She looked him dead in the eye with intense hatred, and sorrow shining in hers; not for him, but for every moment spent with her mother and father. “If you knew– Why do you think I was desperate to go with you?”

A thin-lipped smile came across his face as he knowingly nodded. “Yeah, I figured as much,” There was a moment’s pause that followed while Flynn debated whether to ask the question. One that wouldn’t be easy to find the courage to admit the answer to. He could see it in her soul, hear it in her voice whenever they were mentioned. Perhaps, if she wanted to, she could confide in him? It might help to talk. “Sara, did they ever… do anything to you?”

“Not physically, no,” she responded, followed by a sniffle.

"Then, what, mentally? Emotionally?"

“What difference does it make?” Sara snapped, her voice breaking. “Abuse is abuse! It _all_ screws you up. Makes you feel like you’re not good enough, makes you… want to die.”

Flynn raised both of his hands and slapped one on each of her shoulders. His maple-brown eyes sparked with conviction aimed at her. “Don’t ever say that. You are good enough, and I’m glad you’re alive. You are Sara Wheeler, the smartest, most extraordinary and impossible woman I’ve ever met.”

Sara could barely breathe. Someone was actually being nice to her, and it wasn't out of pity. It was out of the kindness of his heart, veiled as it may appear to be. Then desire turned to embarrassment, simply for feeling these unspeakable feelings for him, causing her to shift her focus of attention elsewhere. “You’ve only just met me.”

“Exactly,” One of Flynn’s hands reached out to her chin and put his thumb and index finger on it, gently forcing her to look at him. “That’s how sure I am. Of you and everything you’ll ever take on. I know that whatever you may face you’ll pummel it into the ground.”

A lopsided grin flashed upon her lips, and she backed away from his grasp before she could allow herself to let something desirable to happen. “I might need some help with that.”

"No problem. I will gladly provide it. Not just with that. I could give you sparring lessons, teach you different languages."

In Chinese, she said, “ _Not needed, Librarian, but thank you._ ”

“ _You are welcome_ ,” he replied in the same tongue. “Where did you learn Chinese anyhow?” Flynn asked, now speaking English once more.

“Firefly,” She sheepishly grinned. “Real answer, I spent five years in Shanwei after I turned twenty-one. Needed a change of scene.”

Following a curt nod, Flynn began walking alongside her once more. “I can certainly understand that. I once stayed in Ukraine for a couple of weeks. Odessa. Word to the wise: stay away from the Soviets. They're vampires.”

“Oh, come on. I know they were bad, but calling them blood suckers–?”

“No, I mean they were _actual_ vampires.”

Sara halted in astonishment while Flynn kept on going. “You wha?” After shaking off the stupefaction, she jogged to catch up with him. “Seriously, communist vampires? Isn't that a bit redundant?”

“That is _exactly_ what I said!” Flynn’s lips pursed while he pondered. “Come to think of it, that might have been what got them riled up. That and stealing back the Devil’s Scimitar.”

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind, next time I’m in town,” Sara caustically retorted. “What I wanna know is what you did to fight them off. Fistfight?” Sara punched the air before her. “Ooh, no! Swordfight!” Then she lunged forward, invisible sword in hand.

“Neither,” Going off the puzzled look she gave him, he explained, “There’s nothing that can’t be solved by talking. Eighty percent of the time, it’s enough.”

“And the other twenty?”

“Running works just as well.”

Sara huffed out a scoff. “The only people who should run is the side you’re up against.”

Flynn gave her a quick tilt of his head. “So much anger, Sara.”

“Not anger, just–“ For a moment she had to compare it to what she truly felt. There were many synonyms, all of which ultimately meant the same thing. Sara bobbled her noggin, shaking loose the denials that she was anything but furious. “Yeah, okay. Anger. But I have a good reason to be.”

“Well, sure. Your parents are hardly worthy of being your parents.”

“Yes.”

“No friends.”

“Yep.”

“No sex life.”

A look of embarrassment clouded her features. “Well, uhm…”

“Barely even an online presence. Although that doesn't mean anything anyway.”

Now she was full-on pissed off. “Flynn, I said _a_ reason. Uno.”

“And therein lies my whole point,” He put his arm out in front of her and they stopped again. There was a deep set frown of solemnity on his face. “Sara, listen to me. You can’t let this rule you. If you do that–”

“I won’t be any better than him,” she finished. “Than _any_ of them. I know.”

“You’re better than that. I’ve seen it, when you comforted me.”

Sara waved off that small moment of kindness as though it wasn’t a big deal. “Yeah, well, I know how much panic attacks suck.”

“Not the word I’d use, but yes.”

She snorted at the possible adjectives he would use. Most likely something proper, such as ‘horrid,’ or ‘nightmarish.’ Whatever it may be, it was annoying to say the least. “In any case, we should quit stallin’. I would like to get back _before_ dark.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Flynn clapped his hands and said, “Adventure awaits!” Then he sprinted off without her.

“Wh–? I didn't say we should run!” Just when she caught up with him again, she bumped right into him at the corner of the street. Flynn appeared to be stunned ridged for some reason, but the reason why didn't matter once she made physical contact. Sara's cheeks flushed. “You really are a hefty–”

“ _Ssshhhhhh_ ”

“Don’t you shush me, Libraria– AHHH!” Sara was suddenly yanked between two buildings and thrust up against a wall. “What are you–?”

Flynn slapped a hand on Sara's mouth. “What part of ‘ _ssshhhhhh_ ’ don't you understand?” he demanded, voice sotto voce and irked.

Ordinarily, anyone would be pissed off to be manhandled like this. Sara was more peeved that his germ covered hand was over her lips, and the longer it stayed there, the more upset she got. She ripped it off by his wrist and promptly squeezed out hand sanitiser and rubbed it over her mouth, chin and under her nose. Annoyance washed across her like a huge tidal wave.

“Aaannnd there’s the anger again,” he said in a drawl and with a tilt of his head. “I’ll skip the fact that basic sanitising gel will not have any affect on gastrointestinal viruses and tell you the police are here and I think they’re looking for us.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Paranoid much?” It only took her stepping two feet away from him to see that he was right. Police were casing the entire street, most likely for them. With fear in her eyes, she stared at him. “You were saying?”

Flynn grabbed her by the hand and pulled her along with him. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“Where do you think?”

In a split second, Sara and Flynn went from a random door in the alleyway to the Annex. They came stumbling in for the second time, startling Jenkins enough to stop studying for all but a moment before returning to his work.

“Ah, Mister Carsen. And…” Jenkins eyed the young woman up and down in disdain. “Miss Whatever-your-name-is. We have _got_ to stop meeting like this.”

“Tell that to your Librarian,” she wittily retorted. “ _He_ keeps bringing me here.”

“I know, I know!” Flynn fervidly waved off Jenkins’ glare. “No outsiders, I know, but I have a perfectly good reason for bringing her here. I think we’re being tracked down.”

“Uh, you _think_?” Jenkins turned a screen towards them, and on it were news feeds from every country, all of which showed their faces. “Everyone on the planet now knows you two. What have you been doing?”

“Well, we _did_ steal a car and fled…” Sara said with another shrug.

In response to Jenkins’ incredulous gawking, Flynn immediately spoke in a reassuring way. “No, no. We did not. We… crashed before we could get anywhere.”

At first, Jenkins stammered, not forming any actual words, until finally, he snapped, “Unbelievable!”

“Actually, we didn't crash,” Sara clarified, raising her hand just to her shoulder. “I stopped it.”

“ _You_ did?” Intrigued, Flynn stepped a little bit closer to her. “We were going pretty fast from what I remember. How could you have stopped it?”

This was it. Sara had to tell him _and_ Jenkins. But how can she explain to them that she somehow developed telekinetic powers, heightened empathic and psychic abilities and Lord knows what else when she couldn't even fathom it herself.

In spite of that, she made an effort to try to. “Well. Here’s something funny.” 


	8. The Telekinetic Girl

“Let me get this clear in my head, you possess magical powers?” Jenkins asked, making sure he heard and understood her correctly.

“I wouldn’t call it _magical_ , but…” Sara shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah. About five weeks ago.”

In a not so subtle manner, Flynn made a noise and gesture to get Jenkins to talk in private. He took him off to the side, near the hallway to the front entrance. “Five weeks ago, that’s when magic was brought back into the world.”

“And she developed her abilities shortly after. The ley lines must have somehow given it to her.”

Flynn watched her as she wandered around aimlessly, looking at the various books the Annex had. “So,” His attention caught between Sara and Jenkins, he found himself glancing at both of them, almost making himself dizzy. “W-what do we do?”

“Well, I suggest you have ‘ _the talk_ ’ with her, Mister Carsen.”

Feeling awkward and embarrassed, he scratched the back of his head and avoided eye contact. When he finally did, he revealed he was blushing. “I’m pretty sure she’s already had it.”

“I haven’t, actually,” Sara blurted out from upstairs. She leaned over the bannister and added, “But, you know… Google. Anyway, he doesn’t mean _that_ kind of talk.”

“Indeed. She–” Jenkins pulled a double-take on her, wondering at what point she made her way up there. “She needs to learn how to control her powers. Especially when she is back in the real world.”

“Wait, wait,” Sara lobbed herself over the railing and landed on her feet with all the grace of a drunken giraffe. After steadying herself, she continued, “Wait, _when_ I go back? I’m not going anywhere!”

“Miss, you can’t stay here.”

“No, she’s right,” Flynn said, folding his arms. “This is the safest place she can be right now. I mean, she is, for all intents and purposes, an artefact.”

“I–” At that moment, his words sank in. Sara couldn’t decide if she was peeved or perplexed. Maybe both. “You wha??”

“I know, you’re a person, but a person with incredible capabilities. I mean,” Unable to contain Flynn’s excitement any longer, he let out a boisterous laugh. “You’re a human artefact!”

Gazing at him and his giddy nature, she got a warm, fuzzy feeling, prompting a grin of her own. Up until she, once again, realised what he just said, then her face went blank. “I’m a what?”

“ _Or_ you have an artefact _on_ you. This necklace!” Flynn studied the silver chain and London blue topaz gem closely, only to be disappointed seconds later. “No, that’s not it. Cheap, though.”

She frowned in affront. “I got on it _Amazon_ , and could please stop touching me?”

“Sorry. No other Librarian has ever come into contact with a human artefact, so you can understand my excitement,” Flynn’s eyes then flicked from Sara to a random spot on the ceiling while he reconsidered his statement. “Well, _one_ did, but that didn’t end well.”

“Ah, yes. The _real_ reason the moon has craters,” Jenkins recalled with an odd hint of impending misfortune in his tone.

A frown of puzzlement lined her forehead. “I-I’m sorry. What happened exactly?”

The way Jenkins motioned his hands was akin to an explosion, as well as the sounds he made, adding squelching and hushed screaming.

A concerned and troubled expression crossed her face, eyebrow arched. “Well, I would never do that to him.”

Appreciative that she didn’t want to blow him to smithereens using her brains, Flynn gave her a delicate smile of gratitude and said, “Oh, thank you.”

It still sounded like a horrible idea to Jenkins, the two of them gallivanting about with dangers lurking. “Even so, it could be hazardous to let her go.”

“Oh, Jenkins. It’s not like she’ll be unsupervised. I’ll be there. Besides,” Flynn wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close to him. “She just said she wouldn’t harm me, and we’re getting on fantastically.”

“Yes, and a little too quickly, I might add.”

Near imperceptibly, Flynn’s expression turned serious, hardening his handsome features. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Before the fur could start flying, Sara clapped her hands once to interrupt it. “Okay! I need to use the loo.”

Flynn pointed in the direction of the bathroom. “Oh, it’s back–”

“I know where it is. I’ve been here before.”

“But you never–”

“I didn’t mean that time, Librarian.”

With that, she turned the corner and was gone, leaving Flynn and Jenkins to wonder what the hell she was talking about.

Following a sharp inhalation, Jenkins asked, “Mister Carsen, I know it’s none of my business, but have you forgotten about Colonel Baird?”

“You’re right, it’s none of your business,” he parried, then began searching for something to take back with him.

“It’s just…” Jenkins’ voice snared Fynn’s attention. Taking notice of this, he went on to say, “I see the way you look at her–”

“Sara.”

“Yes, well, one still couldn’t help but wonder.”

The very idea of such a thing brought forth a chuckle. Sara and Flynn? It was harebrained, not to mention callous of him to take advantage of the moment, hypothetical or not. So, why did he still want to? Asking himself this, his brow furrowed, as if the idea was giving him a headache. Before he could respond, Sara came back into the main room of the Annex.

“Hey,” The closer she got to Flynn, the more she noticed he didn’t look well at all. “You all right? You seem rather vexed, Librarian.”

He had to pick his brain up off the floor and stuff it back in his head, so he could speak. Unfortunately, his temporal lobe refused to provide anything except gibberish at first, bringing a worried grimace on her face. At last, he said, “Sorry, sorry. Yeah, it’s– I’m fine. Are you ready to go yet?”

“Go?” Sara glanced around the room. “I thought we were staying here.”

“We won’t find the Library that way, now, will we?” Out of nowhere, Flynn gasped, clutching his head and grabbing handfuls of his hair. “Ohhhh, that’s it!”

Sara’s head scantily tilted. “What, did your brain finally explode?”

“No, no,” He took her hands and eyed her intensely. “You can open a rift between dimensions.”

Both Sara and Jenkins talked over each other, stretching their voices high and thin.

“What?” she demanded.

“Whoa, whoa! Sir, bad idea. _Very_ bad idea!”

“– I-I can’t. Are you _insane_?”

“Well, it’s the only option we have!” Flynn exclaimed, gesturing wildly.

“Surely there is something less, oh, I dunno, _less likely_ to make the world implode on itself?!”

“There is,” Jenkins said. “He’s just… _lost his mind_!”

In response, Sara huffed out in a long breath, “Yeah.”

Even Flynn couldn’t believe his monstrous wrong turn. However, he was getting desperate, so much so that he didn’t care if he destroyed the world in the process of getting his home back. It didn’t occur to him until then if he did go through with the plan, he wouldn’t have a home to go back to. Nobody would.

“You’re right,” A trembling hand of Flynn’s raked through his crazy hair. “I don’t know what got into me.”

“It’s okay,” she spoke in a low, soothing voice. “We’ll figure out a way — a _safe_ way — right?”

Whilst nodding, he mouthed the word, “Okay.”

The two stood there, staring at each other like two lovesick teenagers. There was no doubt that they loved, cherished and respected each other deeply. Neither of them simply didn’t know how to convey it. One wanted to just lay down on the floor with him, listening to music and spacing out together, while the other wanted to kiss her right where she stood.

Thankfully, a clear of Jenkins’ throat brought Flynn and Sara back to reality and prevented either of them from living out their fantasies.

“I realise this might not be the best time to mention this, but the others will be back soon.”

”Right. I just don’t know where we can go without being hunted down,” Flynn tapped his lips and chin with his fingers and paced, completely missing Sara striding off with purpose. “Some remote island maybe? No, that wouldn’t work. We’d need books, we’d need–”

Sara came back with something in her small hands and gave it to Flynn.

“The perception shifters…” He stared intently at them in his palms, then gave her the same treatment. “How did you know where these were?”

“Told you. Been here before,” Playfully, she smacked his back. “Keep up, big man.”

He watched her walk away, towards the front gate. All he could do at first was hoarsely dissolve into laughter while he admired the exceedingly and ever-increasingly fascinating woman. Eventually, he jogged after her, asking, “Seriously, _how_?”

Then there was one. Jenkins was left alone again, and he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Still, it was jarring to have the two show up out of nowhere and leave just as abruptly. At the last second, he decided to call out, “Good luck!” to them, though neither probably heard him.


	9. Monolith of Mut

Now back at his mother’s place, Flynn and Sara kept to themselves. Sara was upstairs, trying on her new clothes while Flynn tried desperately to find a way to get his home back.

It was impossible for Flynn to shut his brain off, especially when something induced a loop of thoughts. Rolling, floating, disseminating in his head like a tornado. It drove him mad. It seemed all the spinning thoughts caused him to whirl about in turn; literally. He hoped the movement would help him somehow, but all it did was make him dizzy. He had to sit down before he fell down.

With a frustrated groan, he tugged at his hair, agonizing over it. If there was one thing he loathed more than overlapping ruminations and ideas, it was the fact that he couldn’t figure something out. Flynn was smart; very smart. He always knew what to do. Now he couldn’t even begin to see a path through the overgrown jungle that was his mind.

There was this horrible pain that wrapped around his skull, making any attempt to conjure up anything impossible. It was getting worse these last five years. Ever since he dropped back into old habits, sticking with his lone adventurer mentality, it freed him up to think. All he did was think, think, think, until he either fell asleep or passed out from overexertion, then started all over again when he came to. No doubt there had been some extra bulk, threatening to max out his temporal lobes.

Right in the middle of a soothing, gentle self scalp massage, Sara walked in. The sound of her steps startled him.

“Sorry,” she said, chuckling faintly until she saw just how miserable he appeared. “You all right? You don’t look so good.”

Through the gaps of his fingers, he stared at her with brooding eyes, not even noticing the insanely short checkered crop-top that showed off her navel and mustard-yellow trousers that were hard to overlook. “I may never find it. And that vexes me.”

Sara slid into a chair opposite him. “Your Library?” Responding to the nod she received, she added, “Well, look at it this way: no-one else has probably found it either.”

As his hands dropped to the table with a thud, Flynn’s once thoughtful gaze subtly changed to one of querulous anxiety, though his facial expression remained deadpan. It just reminded him that others were looking for it as well, and that he was running out of time.

“What?” Sara asked with considerable surprise in her voice. “I thought I was being helpful.”

“Well, you’re not. So please, leave me alone to think.”

“Thinking is what’s killing you,” she let slip without knowing it.

A frown of perplexity and distress came over his face, deepening the lines on his forehead. “What?”

Blank astonishment donned on her countenance once it occurred to her that she said something she shouldn’t have. “What what?”

“You said thinking is what’s killing me. What did you mean by that?”

Following a shrug of her shoulders, Sara explained it to the best of her ability. “Thinking too much makes you lose sleep, your appetite… people… your _mind_. Trust me, I know. Borderline personality disorder; I always overthink things and come to the conclusion that people are going to leave me and– Self-destruction and isolation. Don’t do this to yourself, mate. You’re not doing any favours.”

“I have to,” Flynn replied in a faint whimper, then put on a defensive front. “Not the self-destruction part, but the isolation. It’s _your fault_ I can’t come up with a plan. I told you, I work better alone.”

“Yeah, that’s… _really_ worked for you so far,” she sarcastically retorted, then in a more serious way she asked, “What about that inter-dimensional gate thing? I thought that was your plan.”

“Yes, but I don’t have the faintest idea–”

“Flynn, you’re the Librarian. Ideas are your thing. You have a whole arsenal of them at your disposal, so pick one,” Sara grabbed a random book and handed it to him. “and start making magic happen.”

He had to admit, her words were inspiring, but it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t as if the answer to his problems would fall onto his lap.

While huffing out an exasperated breath, Flynn stretched until the wooden chair he occupied tilted on its back legs. Unable to keep it balanced, he bumped against a bookcase behind him, causing an avalanche of books. While others dropped to the floor around him, one landed, of all places, on his lap. It was a book on Ancient Egyptians. Staring at its cover spawned a long sought after plan — or at least the start of one.

Clocking the wide enthusiastic grin on Flynn’s face, she surmised, “I take it you’ve found what you were looking for?”

Beyond excited, Flynn shot to his feet and jumped up and down with joy; buoyant, childlike joy. Laughing the entire time. Soon after that, he took Sara’s hands in his and leapt with her. “ _Ha-ha, yes!_ I’ve still got it!” Flynn exclaimed, then tightly hugged her. So tight that he was squeezing the air out of her.

Sara wheezed and repeatedly tapped his shoulders, trying to get him to loosen his grasp. “Big man?” she strained to get out. “You’re crushing me.”

“Oh, sorry,” Flynn swiftly let go of her. 

Feelings grew stronger, and they weren’t ones he should have. Those feelings took over and turned his mind to mush, more than it already was. There was something about her that agreed with him, something almost mysterious. She was basically a female version of him, which helped. It gave him someone who could relate to him, for once. Someone he didn’t have to explain himself to.

It took him ten seconds to realise that he hadn’t spoken, too engrossed, keeping a rapt gaze fastened on her. With a sharp inhale, Flynn brought himself out of his stupefaction. Words came to him at last. “You said you had something to tell me?”

“Yeah, I uhm…” However, the longer Sara scrutinised him, the more she found that what she sensed in him before was gone. Was it wishful thinking or was she wrong? She couldn’t tell. Being so stressed and distraught, her abilities were most likely unreliable. This worried her. She was never wrong. Except for that one time she thought she was sick with Norovirus and needlessly panicked for two days straight.

Sara looked at him with such bewilderment, eyes narrowed. In a voice coming as a low murmur, she said, “I don’t know.”

“Was it urgent?”

At the time it was, but since it wound up being a false positive, there would be no point in telling him now. Guess it was just gas, she thought. “Not really, no. I just wanted to thank you.”

“What for?”

“For this,” Sara waved her arms outwardly at her surroundings. “This is the happiest I’ve been in a long, long time. And I have you to thank.”

“Thank yourself, for deciding to come with me.”

“Well, yeah, but… You saved me.”

Flynn’s cheeks turned scarlet, then pathetically, he tried to cover it by lowering his head. Nervously, he chuckled. “Well, I don’t know about _that_.”

“No, you did. I was unhappy there. I’m not even sure they ever wanted me.”

“I’m sure they must have, or you wouldn’t be here.”

Sara let out a scoff. “Yeah,” she muttered. “Probably kept me so they have someone else to torment with their lies and excuses. ‘I figured you’d come back,’ they said without a _bloody_ trace of–! I once took off for five, maybe six hours. I only came back because my friend–” Another mirthless chortle issued from her lungs, followed by a sniffle. “ _Ex-friend_ … saw me at the waterfront dropped me off. Thinkin’ back, I should’ve hid. Never come back. But then I never would have met you, so, silver lining, eh?”

“Yeah,” Flynn softly replied. Anything louder and he would’ve started crying with her.

“But enough about me and my self-pity. We should get to work.”

“We?”

“Yes, we,” Sara tilted her head to get a better view of the book. “What do you think this will tell us?”

“Ah, well pharaohs used pyramids as passageways to the afterlife,” he explained. “We just need to find the sarcophagus — the _right_ sarcophagus — and go we’ll from there.”

“Oh, is _that_ all?” Sara sardonically responded.

As he cocked his head, he levelled a smirk with a hint of indignation shining in his eyes. “Must you always be caustic?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation, and added, “Have you known me to be anything else?”

Just then, a white envelope came sliding underneath the door, snagging their attention.

“The hell?” Sara plucked it up and studied it carefully, only for Flynn to rip it from her grasp. “Oy!”

Avoiding her scowl, he tore into the envelope and sniffed at the folded papers within like a bloodhound, making Sara roll her eyes, another thing he chose to ignore. “Jenkins…”

Sara stood on her tiptoes beside Flynn and leaned over to get a better view. “What is it?”

“Notes, which are on–” A bewildered frown creased his brow. He turned to her, his expression still the same. Eventually and flatly, he said, “– The Monolith of Mut.”

“Huh. That is lucky, that.”

_Too lucky_ , he thought. _All of this is. Could it be that simple?_ In all of his hard concentration, Flynn didn’t notice the strange, sudden light-headed feeling until it forced him to stumble. He couldn’t understand why it came on. It scared him. He grabbed on to the edges of his desk for stability, as well as an attempt to ground himself. However, it hardly helped. Before long, Flynn collapsed to the floor, hitting the hardwood with a considerable thud.

“Oh, crap,” Sara quietly moaned as she eased herself to his level. “Flynn? Flynn, are you all right?” Of course, she knew he wasn’t, but she wanted to ask anyway.

A frown of pain lined his otherwise handsome features, a groan accompanying it. Flynn opened his eyes slowly and stared at her through bleary vision. “Hello,” he said, voice slightly hushed.

“Hey,” Sara hesitated to smile, yet at the same time did her best not to appear frightened. It would only make matters worse, she knew it. “What happened?”

“I think I forgot to breathe.”

“That’s… not good,” While she checked him over, she noticed the dark patches under his eyes. The pallor of his skin made it impossible to miss. “When was the last time you’ve slept?” Sara asked. “Or ate anything?”

“Can’t,” he tersely replied. “Too cime tonsuming–”

Sara gave him a quick raise of her eyebrow, inwardly wondering if he had whacked his head on the way down.

“– But _I_ –!” Flynn continued, his voice raspy, and shot up on to his haunches, which he soon found he would regret. “Sat up too fast. _Oof!_ ” It wasn’t long after that that he flopped backwards against Sara’s front.

“Okay,” she drawled in a murmur and helped him get more comfortable. “It’s okay, I’ve got ya. Just keep breathing, all right? Keep breathing.”

“I can’t stop now,” Flynn whimpered, both exhausted and tense. “I need to–”

“No, you don’t _need_ to do _anything_ other than rest.”

“That is _not_ something I need right now. With these notes I’m close!”

“Close to what? Losing it?” Sara sardonically responded. “Because I would have to agree. Flynn, _trust_ me. Don’t push yourself, especially now. Okay?”

Flynn grabbed the notes, pointed at them and stammered, “But it–”

“No,” she snapped. “Rest — _now_ , Carsen.”

That was the first time he had ever heard her use his surname. Taking it as a sign of seriousness, he agreed with her. “All right then. You are the Queen after all.”

Once again, she scoffed. “Really wish you’d stop calling me that.”


	10. Unexpected Trouble

It took all but a split second to arrive, with Flynn’s ability to use any door. The notes from Jenkins helped as well.

It wasn’t that Sara wanted to go home — she had enough of that place — but she did have to wonder how her mother was faring in all of this. She didn’t trust her father would be civil without her around. It wasn’t as if she could call right now either. No reception all the way out… wherever the hell they were.

“How can you handle this?” Sara asked out of the blue.

Flynn cast only the slightest of glances to her before refocusing on the path ahead of him. “Handle what?”

“Being away from family. Friends.”

“I have no friends.”

“Family then.”

Briefly, Flynn stopped, whirled on his heels and said, “We need to focus up, Sara. Okay? We can’t be thinking of _useless_ –!” He clenched his teeth for control, so hard that it made his jaw hurt. Everything came rushing back when she asked that stupid question; everything and everyone he lost to this ridiculous job, and for what? Saving the world? The world was always ending.

Eventually, he slackened his jaw and continued on a different train of thought. “This is the place. Come on.”

Before them was a pyramid amidst the sand dunes, which they were tired of by this point. Sand: it really did get everywhere. Still they pressed on, and the blackened moonlight hid them. Then as they approached a plateau of smooth rock they heard the mysterious thrumming of something heavy. Their hearts seemed to stop beating.

Sara heard an indistinct voice before it even registered in Flynn’s mind, so she grabbed him and pinned him against a pillar, covering his mouth. She put a finger of hers to her own mouth, indicating that he needed to stay quiet, and she felt something like a tremor. Then the truck lurched to a halt, and the shaking subsided.

_What the hell is that doing all the way out here?_ she inwardly wondered.

Instantly, Flynn recognised the people climbing out of the vehicle. He let out a muffled exclamation, however, it was immediately hushed by her. A puff of air escaped his nostrils.

Sara waited until the coast was clear to remove her hand. “What?” she snapped, sotto voce.

“I know them.”

“Oh, great. Maybe you can tell them to bugger off,” Sara muttered as she peered around the corner again. “Who are they?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied in a whisper. “We just need to keep them away.”

“Kick their arse. Got it,” Sara bolted for the bad guys without another word or thought.

“No, that’s–!” By the time he started to finish talking she was already gone. The lone finger he had lifted joined the others in a fist that dropped to his side. Flynn sighed in defeat. “Not what I had in mind.”

“Oy!” Sara shouted, snagging their attention before they reached the door. One of them, a dark-haired woman, grabbed hers as well. “Ooh, ‘ello,” While biting her lip, she looked her up and down. “Nice BDSM getup you’re donnin’. What’re you doin’ later?”

“Who the hell are you?” she demanded.

“Heeyyy, you’re from the Kingdom, eh? What’s that, Londoner? GB? Definitely not Cockney–” The sound of multiple guns clicking cut her right off. “Ahhh, heh. Gun types. I’m more of a knife lass, but since I forgot to bring one–”

“I’m not asking again.”

Sara looked behind her to see if Flynn was still back there. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell, even with her abilities. Either he went inside, out of her range, or he was insanely great at hiding.

“Hey! Are you listening to me?”

Sara masticated a moment as she gradually slid her a scowl. “Sara Wheeler,” she clinically replied. “And, not to sound _too_ cheesy, your worst nightmare.”

“Really?” The mystery woman levelled a grin, intrigued by Sara’s mettle.

Following a curt nod, Sara waved her hand and knocked out everyone else around them, with the exception of Flynn. Clocking the noticeably shocked expression, she smirked. “What’s wrong, Lamia? I haven’t scared you, have I?”

Panic gripped her throat like a python, making it nigh impossible to talk. “How do you know my name?”

“Oh, I know everything about you, sweetheart. Everything except for what you stand for. I could _never_ understand that.”

“Using magic to destroy the world? What’s so wrong with that?”

A soft hum emitted from Sara’s chest. Her eyes caught sight of Flynn scurring inside the pyramid, to which she smiled at, despite him wearing the perception shifter. There was no way she could ignore him. She diverted her focus back to Lamia. “Except you’re forgetting two things.”

With a tilt of her head, Lamia asked, “Which is?”

“You can’t control it,” Sara brought up her hand, now glowing with telekinetic energy. “I should know.”

Mortified, Lamia backed up two paces. “What is the second thing?”

“The one person who is always where you seem to be.”

That was when her stomach dropped to her bowels. “The Librarian,” she uttered, voice trembling with rage.

“Oh yes!” Just as Lamia was about to sprint off, Sara grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back. “Ah-ah! You and I? We’re talking.”

“Not now. I have a pest to exterminate.”

Sara rushed Lamia and tacked her to a nearby pillar by the neck with her forearm. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” She felt Lamia moving under her grasp. “If you do anything other than surrender–”

“You’ll what? Hit me?” she managed to get past out past Sara's grip. “I’d love to see you try. Go ahead, hit me.”

As an idea, or rather, a song popped into her head, she smirked and loosened her hold. Sara dislodged her arm from Lamia’s neck and watched her fall to the ground, slumped over her own lower-half. She circled her, like a huntress sizing up her prey, but in a strut, moving to the beat of a tune only she could hear.

Lamia’s eyes narrowed. “You are as crazy as he is.”

“Maybe _that’s_ why we click. Crazy, crazy, crazier together. Two loons in a tree!” Sara started singing, “You may be right–”

“If you don’t mind, could you skip the tunes? If we’re going to fight, I’d like to do it sometime today.”

“You got it,” she mumbled while lifting her to her feet and grinned. “There you are. Need anything before we get started?”

“Wha–?”

Sara whirled gracefully and elbowed her in the face, then turned again to knee her in both ribs. Another knee thrust into her gut, knocking her out of wind. While she was temporarily stunned, she moved behind her, grabbed her by the arm, rolled her off Sara’s hip and flipped her over her shoulder.

Her body bounced a second before falling with a loud slap on the floor. A swift kick to her temple with Sara’s platform trainers conked her right out.

As she stared at her still body, she rolled her shoulders and shook off the tension. “Art of confusion,” Sara glanced at her feet. “And he said these were a bad idea.”

A single gunshot echoed throughout the pyramid and reached outside. This made Sara’s heart sink to her gut.

“Flynn!”

Sara made a mad dash inside, where she searched every room until she found him. Flynn laid on the ground beside a sarcophagus, bleeding and in shock; alone, his attacker gone. She froze a moment, taking in the horrifying sight and trying to comprehend it. Soon after, she sprinted in the rest of the way and slid to him as if he were home base.

Frantically, she searched for the bullet’s entry point. As soon as she found it, she wished she hadn't. He was hit in his right brachial artery. Thrown into a panic, she let out a terrified moan and swiftly put pressure on it.

“No,” she repeatedly whimpered. “God, no. Please. No, no, no, no, no!”

“Are you okay? You look all… blurry.”

She was able to chuckle, despite being fear-stricken. “I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I was shot. Right here,” He pointed to the wound with his one good hand.

“Yeah, I see,” she quavered. “Nine millimetre. Can you move your arm? Squeeze my hand.”

He could and did, but it was excruciating. He cried out in agony; nausea set in.

“Okay, okay,” she soothed. “Good. No nerve damage.”

Flynn glanced around the chamber, realising he was still within the pyramid. “Did I do it?” he asked through laboured breaths.

Though she was crumbling inside, she had to smile at him. She was so proud of him. “Yeah,” Her chin quivered. “You did. Just like you always do.”

“What was it? I didn’t get to see it before I–” An explosion of pain halted his thought. He screamed, and contorted his body until he was likened to a croquet hoop, then flopped back down onto the stone floor.

She winced and tensed up along with him, hating seeing him like this. Sara gripped his fingers. “It’s all right. Stay with me, okay?”

“I’m not dreaming, am I? I really got shot?”

Vehemently, she nodded. “Yeah.”

Flynn sniffed hard and deeply exhaled through the pain. “That… is unfortunate. We finally got here and now I’m dying.”

“Well, you’re not dying,” Going off his faint look of puzzlement, she clarified, intense emotion clinging to her voice. “Y-you’re immortal. Your cells can regenerate, or whatever the hell it is… Right?” She expected him to use that as a cue to start healing himself. “Regenerate!” she yelled, her voice cracking.

“Can’t,” he simply replied, barely with it. His words came clipped and slurred. “Library… s… missing–”

“I know, that’s why I’m here! Helping you find the damn thing!”

Flynn continued without a beat, “– Not… how it works, Sara.”

Her facial features scantily twitched while the rest of her body began shaking profusely. Her cold, clammy hands tightened up, wanting to punch something, but there was nothing except for herself. She wouldn’t do that in front of him. At least, not until he completely lost consciousness.

Sara's eyes flicked to a stone chair. With a primal holler, kicked it over on its side. Her screams became so harsh, so tortured. “God f–!” She saw him gazing up at her, sleepily, yet also admonishing her for a swear she didn't get to make; for losing her beautiful mind. “Sorry. It’s just– This would happen to me. You were the one person I could be myself with, and you’re–”

“It’s okay. Been around for too long.”

“It’s _not_ okay. Nothing _about_ this is okay. You’re forty-one,” She started weeping at the thought of it. “God, you’re forty-one. You didn’t even get to live.”

“I’ve lived more this week than I have in a long time.”

Sara smiled, grateful for the time they had, though the mirth never reached her eyes. “Yeah, me too. But with you gone, I don’t know what else to do,” It wasn’t until she caught a glow in the bottom of her vision that her mood shifted. It came from her hands. A new glow this time. Sara's widened, deep blue eyes studied them. “Flynn?”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll see it. The Library.”

“Flynn?”

“Does it have an afterlife it goes to?”

Sara rolled her eyes and did what she felt was right. She put her hand over his wound, and in seconds, fragments of the bullet slipped out, and began to heal from the inside out.

“Maybe it _is_ the afterlife, and I’ve been dead this whole time. It would explain a lot,” he went on, unaware his health was somewhat improving. “Hey, since this might be it, I have something I want to tell you.”

“Seriously, Flynn–?”

“Let me finish. It’s not easy for me, so I’ll just say it: I love you. Admittedly, I don’t entirely know what love is. I know a lot of things, but love isn’t one of them. I do know that I’m happier now than I’ve ever been, and I think it’s because of you.”

“Flynn!”

“What?” he shrieked. “Can’t you see that I’m professing my feelings to you?”

She didn’t answer. Rather, she held up the bigger part of the bullet that once occupied a space near his brachial artery.

He slapped his free hand over his mouth, his eyes bugging out. At breakneck speed, took a gander at his now healed shoulder. He removed his other hand and snatched the bullet fragment. “H-how did you do that?” Little by little, he sat up without noticing, too engrossed.

With a flamboyant gesture, she answered, “Magic! Actually, I don’t know. My hands were doing weird things and I went with it.”

“Weird things,” he echoed. He had to make sure he heard correctly. “Y-you healed me? You didn’t know you could do that?”

She shook her head. “Just found out.”

“Biokinesis. That’s–” The corner of Flynn's mouth quirked up into a half-smile. “Anything else I should know about?”

“Well, I can see things, even before they happen, hear things that others can’t.”

“Can you–?”

She stared blank-faced at him. “Read your mind? Yes. I didn’t tell you before because I knew you would have thought I was insane.”

“Insane?” Flynn tilted his head and slid her a look that was almost enticing. “Sara, I eat insanity for breakfast. And lunch … and dinner. And in between snacks. Actually–”

A wheezy chortle left her lungs before pulling him in for a hug, stunning him for a few seconds. “Come here, you.”

Muffled laughter came from them both. Neither expected anything good to come out of this endeavour. Now that it had, they could rest a little easier. The joy lasted until Sara squeezed on his arm.

“AHHH AH-AHH! GOD!”

Hastily, she let him go. “Sorry, sorry. It’s okay. You’re not out of the woods yet. You've lost a lot of blood.”

“Great. I have to deal with that on top of getting out of here alive.”

Sara groaned as she stood up and for a second time when she helped him to his feet. “Sorry you’re inconvenienced, mate. Who were those people, anyway?”

The Serpent Brother-hood,” he replied and brushed himself off.

“Oh, is _that_ all?” she sardonically uttered. “Kind of a daft name, to be honest.”

“It is derived from the serpent that brought knowledge to Adam and Eve.”

“Like I said, daft. And they want you dead?”

“They want me out of the way.”

“So, dead?”

“If need be,” Flynn said.

This filled Sara with determination. She couldn’t let them take the only being with whom she had shared so much joy and friendship. She squared her shoulders and prepared for the worst. “Fat chance,” she muttered before striding off in the direction they came in.

“Woah, woah,” Flynn hobbled after her, calling out to her. “Sara, there’s more going on than you’re aware of.”

“Bring it on! I’ll burn them all down.”

“That’s a tad overkill,” he murmured.

Sara immediately stopped and whirled around to face him, regarding him with vexed incredulity. “You’d rather they lived?”

“Honestly, yes,” he answered, much to her chagrin. “It would give them a chance to change their minds, become better people.”

“You are so naive.”

That was when he saw it; the familiar burning in her eyes and her soul. It came with the past she had, moments she had avoided, memories she had buried. Flynn felt the heart-wrenching sadness that came from holding these things and the burden it brought. He enfolded her and wished he could somehow have her go back to when she was happy. Flynn made sure she knew he loved her, that she always would be loved, and that she had no reason to be resentful. They ruined her, but he could change her, if she wanted him to.

Her anger receded, making way for a calm to wash over her. Sara could just about hear his heart beating, slow and steady, reminding her how precious human life is. She almost felt sorry for how she acted before — almost.

Sara had no idea why they were holding each other for a second time, but she couldn’t deny her gratitude. She also couldn’t deny that they didn’t have time for this mush.

She pulled away from him, then looked up into his eyes, becoming lost in them. “We should–” The rest of her thought would have been impulsive and dangerous, something she would have acted on if she hadn’t yanked herself out of the trance she was in. “W-we should go. Before it gets dark.”

“Agreed,” Flynn stepped aside and made way for her. “Ladies first?”

She slid him a suspicious look as she walked past him. “I can’t tell if you're being chivalrous or cowardly.”

“Let’s go with chivalrous.”

She held back her laughter by a hair. “Right. So, you’re not sending me in first because I’m supposed to protect you?”

“Exactly.”

“Because you don’t need that?”

“No, I do not!” he exclaimed in a raspy voice, followed by an immediate, repeated clear of his throat. Calmly, he reiterated, “I don’t. In fact–” Flynn tugged her back and stepped ahead of her. “ _I’ll_ go.”

“You know what? I’m actually okay with keeping you safe. It’s the least I could do,” Suddenly, her ears pricked to attention. Sara stuck out an arm in front of Flynn, stopping him. “You hear that? Boots.”

It took a full five seconds before he heard it too. “Military, probably steel-toed.”

“Typical of the Brother-hood?”

“ _Not_ typical, no, but with the perception shifters it should be fine.”

“ _Or_ , and this is just a suggestion, we can try something else.”

An eyebrow of his arched, and rather puzzled by what she could possibly have in mind when their only exit was most likely swarming with undesirable people, he had to question her sanity.

Sara put one of each hand on his shoulders and eyed him intently. “I need you to trust me.”

“Why, what are you going to do?”

Sara closed her eyes, held his hand and concentrated on making sure they, most of all Flynn, stayed safe. All her energy honed in on that one thought, and little by little, with the unwitting help of Flynn, something amazing happened.

Though she couldn’t see it, a protective barrier formed around them; nothing could get in, and as Flynn touched it from inside, he found nothing could get out either.

A tiny giggle of awe and exultation came out of him, but his mood shifted once he saw her nose bleeding. “Sara?”

Slowly, she peeled her eyes open, the dull light that gave her a headache making her wish she kept them closed. “I don’t know how long I can hold this for. We’ve gotta go.”

“What, _through_ them?” he incredulously asked.

“You got any better ideas?”

“You _have_ gone insane.”

“C’mon!” Sara darted for the entrance, dragging him along with her.

The two ran, one laughing, the other screaming his head off, repeatedly saying how he was going to be sick. Shots were fired, but none of them landed, not while the bubble they were in was active. There was one man who stood between them and their exit.

“Ohhhh–!” Flynn tightly shut his eyes in anticipation of the man slipping in with them. He could not have been more wrong.

The barrier knocked him down and rolled over his body. Nothing, not even dust could penetrate their bubble. It was theirs and theirs alone.

Once they reached the outside, a dozen more men with armoured cars surrounded them, but it wasn’t anyone from the Serpent Brother-hood.

Sara and Flynn came to a halt. They looked at one another, breathing heavily, blood oozing from Sara’s nose. Flynn wiped it away with his thumb, and lightly smiled at her, paying no mind to the goings-on around them.

These people were here to ‘save her.’ She knew it, and it pissed her off to no end. Sara glowered darkly at each and every single one of those men.

“Look,” Flynn spoke up at last. “You got me here. Maybe it’s time you went home.”

A faint, near imperceptible twitch of her head was her only reaction to his voice at first, almost drawn away. Still, she kept her eyes on them and flatly told him, “I already am home.”

The barrier became stronger, brighter, then extended and flared like a dying sun. Sara stood in front of Flynn, in case something failed within the telekinetic walls around them.

Her breathing became heavier, her chest and head aching, but it didn't stop her. Rage surged through her veins. Nothing, _nobody_ was going to take Flynn away from her. Not now, not ever.

“Sara?” Flynn's voice came shaky and nervously.

Ignoring him, she emphasised her words to the men threatening to bring their relationship, whatever it was, to an end. “I… will not… let you… _take… me… back_!”

Along with Sara’s screaming voice, the bubble circling them blew outwards, causing a shock wave that sent the men and their vehicles flying back. The skies lit up so brightly that the _International Space Station_ probably saw it. In the wake of the explosion, all the remained was Sara and Flynn, huddled in a ball, still in their barrier.

Surmising the worst was over, Flynn’s eyes popped open. He glanced up at Sara, who had her body draped over his for added protection, then at the destruction her fairly innocuous outburst caused. Nobody was hurt, from what he could tell; just thrown around a bit. His eyes reverted back to her. “Sara? It’s okay, you can let go of me now.”

What he didn’t realise was that she had passed out some time after her burst of anger. At least, not until he didn't get a response.

“Sara?” Flynn stood straighter, only to have her slide off his back and land on the ground. “Oh, no, no. Sara??” He checked for a pulse, gratified to find one, then lightly tapped her cheek. “Hey. Sara? Sara, wake up!”

She stirred but never fully came to.

There was a single truck twenty feet away that miraculously was untouched. Flynn saw it, thinking there might be a window of opportunity.

He scooped her up and hightailed it to the vehicle. When he got there, he laid her down in the back seat, then shot into the driver’s side. Flynn searched for the keys he so desperately hoped would be there. As luck would have it, they were under the visor. Flynn spluttered out a snicker. “Idiots.”

The truck rumbled to life with the turn of the key. Flynn couldn't help laughing when the engine started, as though he expected otherwise.

He looked back at Sara, and even though he knew she wouldn’t hear him, he said, “Don’t worry. We’re getting out of here.”


	11. Wake Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a heads up: as this is the last chapter, this is going to be a long one, with angst and feels. It’s also a different interpretation of the lead-up to the finale for the first series.

Flynn burst through the Annex, blazing past Jenkins, Sara still cradled in his arms.

“Sir?” Taking in the horrifying sight of Sara, his breath hitched for a moment. “What happened?”

“No time to explain!” he blurted out. “I need your help.”

“Y-yes, of course. In my workstation.”

After they arrived, Jenkins cleared his table by shoving everything off and Flynn laid her down on top of it.

“Easy, easy,” Jenkins gently urged.

“I know,” Flynn said, whimpering. As he stared at her, more tears fell. “She’s so small.”

“You need to tell me what happened before I can even begin to–”

“She saved me,” A soft, crooning noise left him. His chin and lips trembled, momentarily stopping when he tried speaking again. “She, uh– She used her powers and now she won’t wake up. I think she drained herself.”

“Sh–?!” Jenkins began to shout, but cut himself short, glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was listening, forgetting they were alone, and he tried once more in a lower tone. “She used her powers _outside_ of the Library?”

“Can you maybe suspend any judgment and I told you so’s until _after_ we’ve patched her up, please?” Jenkins still held a scowl which Flynn met with one of his own. “I’m not happy about it either. But she did what she had to, to keep them away from us.”

“Them? Who is ‘them?’”

That, he didn’t know. He could only assume Sara’s parents called in the calvary. They were desperate to get her back it seemed, and this was only the beginning.

“Sir, we cannot afford another enemy to deal with–”

“No,” Flynn interjected. “This is– I can handle this.”

“Well, yes of course. You come in here, frantic and with a woman in your arms, a woman who quite possibly could be dying, and you’re telling me that someone else is after you?” Jenkins spat out. “Yes, I’d say you have it _completely_ under control.”

“You knew people were after us! You’re the one who pointed it out!”

Jenkins held up his hands in supplication. “Okay. Yes, you’re right, I did know,” he soothed. “I just didn’t think she’d attack anyone. Were there any casualties?”

Worried eyes fixed upon Sara. Flynn had never been so close to somebody like her; someone so coquettish when she wanted to be and fierce when she had to be, someone who could literally cause an explosion should something happen to the ones she cared for the most. One of those was Flynn. Whether she would go as far as to kill someone for him, he hoped she wouldn’t.

A stuttering inhale preceded his eventual response. “I-I don’t know. She shielded me.”

“I hope for your sake she didn’t. Wouldn’t want a mass homicide to go with your grand theft auto.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Am I laughing?”

Flynn drew his glare away from Jenkins and focused on Sara, pressing his head against hers, as if physical contact would stimulate her. “Sara, it’s me,” he whispered in her ear. “We made it. I need you to wake up now, okay? Please. I can’t lose another–” Suddenly, he broke into sobs, and hid his face in her hair.

“Mister Carsen,” Jenkins said in an eerily calm voice. “I need to examine her.”

“I’m not leaving her.”

“You don’t have to. Just stand back.”

Flynn stared at Sara’s pale, fallible body, letting his eyes linger on her ashen face, blood still coating her upper lip. He really did not want to leave her side, even if he only moved to the corner of the room, watching from afar. Except that was exactly what he did, regardless.

For what felt like hours, but in actuality was mere minutes, Flynn paced like an anxious parent, his arms crossed tightly over his stomach, occasionally putting his hand to his mouth, covering any incoming tears with a quick, shuddering gulp. Eventually, with an agitated huff, he gathered his remaining strength and opened his mouth, slowly and carefully approaching the table to be beside her. “What is taking so long?”

“Sir, I’ve only just started,” Following a sigh, Jenkins continued, “I don’t know what it is yet. What I _can_ tell you is that she has a good carotid pulse. Slow, but good.”

“Wh-what do mean good?” Flynn hastened to ask, faltering his words. “Slow is not good! What is it at?”

“Mister Carsen, you becoming hysterical is not helping.”

All of a sudden, Flynn’s hardened expression went blank. An idea struck him when he remembered one of the few things that made her happy; that made her forget. “Laughing.”

“Sir?”

Flynn scampered off, shouting, “I’ll be right back!”

Barely a minute passed, and he was back, boom box and CDs in hand. Flynn plonked the old hunk of plastic and components on a table, plugged it in and stuck in a disc.

“What are you doing now?”

“Music. She loves music. You should have _seen_ the collection she had back at her place!”

“I don’t think this will work.”

Flynn turned the already loud music up and waited for something to happen. Except nothing did. “It’s not working. Why isn’t it working?”

“Odd. If I heard this din, I would have woken right up. G– Give me that. What is this?” Jenkins plucked the CD case from Flynn’s hand and examined it with narrowed eyes. It was a band named after something that should have ended in the dark ages. With disgust, he shoved it into Flynn’s chest. “Music will not help here,” Jenkins vehemently motioned his hands to Sara. “She’s probably similar to a rechargeable battery; for the time being, she’s low on energy, but with enough rest, she should come back from this fully restored.”

“Probably?” Flynn flatly echoed and scoffed. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Quite frankly, sir, no. No more than you do. This is new territory for us both,” Catching sight of the unbridled panic that had Flynn so worked up, Jenkins tilted his head, as if that would help him see it better. “You really have developed something with her, haven’t you? I don’t think I’ve seen you this distraught before.”

“To be fair, you haven’t seen much of me _at_ _all_ ,” he just about murmured, then snapped, “And I don’t _feel_ _anything_ for her, all right? Nothing except responsible for her.”

Behind Flynn, Sara shot upright, her eyes wide and alert. Jenkins was the only person who saw this.

“Um, sir?”

“I know I shouldn’t feel responsible,” Flynn went on, utterly oblivious. “but I do. For some reason. It’s like she’s– She’s a part of me. A part of me I never knew I needed. And I don’t know if I can handle things without her now.”

“Well,” Jenkins cleared his throat and gave an indicative jerk of his head in the direction behind Flynn. “Anything’s possible, sir.”

Seeing that he wasn’t getting it, Sara chimed in, “That is _so_ sweet!”

Flynn whipped around and held a karate stance for all but a millisecond until it dawned on him just who he was threatening to judo-chop. “Sara!”

No time was squandered in his embracing, almost knocking her over and holding her so tightly that he could have broken her ribs. A couple of pats on his back like tapping out of a wrestling match signaled him to ease off.

Once he did, he examined every inch of her face, touching incessantly. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine,” she responded with a slight drawl and chortle. Sara put her hands on top of his and brought them to their sides, still holding on to them. “I’m tired, but… good, yeah.”

“Shall I give you two some privacy?” Jenkins asked, smirking.

Both Sara and Flynn replied in unison, “No.”

Swiftly, Sara let go of his hands and folded her arms, keeping her eyes on the ground and watching herself rock on her heels.

Flynn coughed to clear absolutely nothing out of his throat, then scratched vaguely at the back of his neck. “I think I, uh– I have to recalibrate the–” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. “Thing.”

A snort of amusement escaped Sara’s nostrils. _Very convincing, Librarian,_ she thought.

“Miss–”

“Wheeler.”

“– Wheeler,” Jenkins huffed out a sharp breath. “Good to have you back. May I ask, have you and Mister Carsen–?”

“No,” she replied as fast as possible. Sara shrugged her shoulders and twisted the ring around her finger and murmured, “It’s… not like that.”

“Shocking, considering how quickly the man falls. I suppose it is better to have loved than to have lost, after all.”

Jenkins walked away, towards the main room of the Annex, Sara following closely behind him.

Sarcastic laughter came faintly before she spoke. “Yeah, sure. He just _loooveess_ me!”

Flynn did on some level. It took him coming close to death to admit it, and that didn’t dawn on Sara until just then. Using that much of her powers scrambled her memories for a bit.

She stopped in the archway, enwrapt in a whole manner of emotions. “W-wait, he can’t. He has someone else.”

“Mister Carsen told you about her?”

“Not exactly, but I figured it out,” An infinitesimal twitch of her upper lip conveyed her jealousy and agitation enough. She muttered, “Stupid powers.”

“Ah, right,” Jenkins set one extremely old, extremely large book on top of another, then gave her his undivided attention. “Your abilities. Which brings me to my second question. What were you thinking back there?”

“I don’t need this from you.”

“No, you need to hear this from him. Where the hell is he now?” Jenkins demanded. As if to answer his question, Flynn entered the room. “Sir, would you please talk with her?”

“Okay,” Flynn drawled out longer than needed. For a moment, he watched Jenkins leave the room, pretending to read, then returned his look of enquiry to Sara. “What did you do?” he asked, an intonation in his voice.

“Nothing, just–” Sara waved her hand in Jenkins’ previously occupied spot and let it fall to her thigh with a slap. “Told me I need to keep myself in check. _Which I don’t_!” she called out to Jenkins toward the end of her statement. “Why are you looking at me like I’ve done something wrong?”

Flynn crooked a finger at her, motioning her to come with him. “I want to show you something.”

“Where are we going?”

“Just come.”

She did as she was told, though it came easy for her. By now, she was his faithful companion, ready and willing to do anything for him, with him, forever and always, if she could.

They arrived in another room, where Flynn rummaged through a mess of books, mumbling to himself as he did so. Sara just stood and stared at him, in awe of him. Now that they weren’t being chased or shot, she could really see Flynn in his element. She adored his enthusiasm and passion for knowledge. Actually, she adored everything about him; his hair, his maple-brown eyes, his suits, but most of all, his big heart. Even if he never showed it, she knew it was there, encased in bricks and mortar.

At last, Flynn found what he needed. A book, naturally, but it didn’t appear to be like all the others around it. He blew the dust off the cover, which led to a sneeze that he shook off afterwards.

“Gesundheit,” she said with a grin.

“Thank you,” Flynn smiled back, before he opened the book. In it was a long list of names. “See, these were all the Librarians that ever existed. Right here is Edward Wilde. Now, he let himself become absorbed by anger and hatred. You know what that got him?”

“Squished?” Sara hazarded a guess. A correct guess. “Flynn, we had this conversation already. I’m not him. I know what I did tonight was moronic, but I did it to keep you safe and to give them enough of a clue to back the hell off. I would _never_ –”

“I know, I know. But… there’s no way nobody saw your crazy light show.”

“Nah!” She waved off his fears like they were annoying gnats. “They’ll just assume it must’ve been aliens.”

“Remember what I said about that?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Clearly, you’ve never worked at Torchwood.”

“Torchwood,” Flynn grumbled in disdain. “ _Eugh_! A Librarian’s worst enemy.”

Sara wrung her hands in front of her body. “Yeah. They’re bloody terrible,” she said, nervously chuckling. “Listen, you said something back at the pyramid. Do you remember?”

“No,” he lied. Of course he remembered. He had a photographic memory; there was no way he couldn’t. “You must have misunderstood. So, are you ready to go home?”

“Thought I might stick around here for a while. If that’s okay.”

His only response was a calm, gentle smile. On the inside, however, he was beyond enthusiastic. After all they had been through, he couldn’t say goodbye just yet.

“Suppose I won’t have any idea what happened this past week, eh?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen things. Things no one is supposed to see. Only way to keep this place safe is to wipe my mind,” Her features hardened as memories — _his_ memories — came flooding back. _That might not be so bad._

“I won’t do that to you. I trust you,” he said, patting her on her shoulder before heading to his messy desk in the corner.

While she would have been grateful, her countenance remained somber. Finally, she was able to gather up the courage to ask what she meant to for days now. She had to know. “Should I be worried?” she blurted out.

“About what?” asked without taking his eyes off of the book in front of him.

“You and Eve.”

He looked up, eyes widened. He looked up, eyes widened. How did she know about her? Did he unwittingly tell her when he was near death? Then he remembered, she was psychic; she could just look at him and get a full story.

As evenly as he could, he said, “No, nothing to worry about.”

“Flynn, really. Obviously, there’s something between us, but I don’t want to get in the way of anything else.”

“There is nothing to get in the way of,” he insisted while mindlessly flipping through pages, pretending to be busy and apathetic.

“Carsen, look at me.”

Called by his last name, again. He knew she must have meant business. Flynn turned on his heels to face her before she started yelling.

“I really hope I’m off, but… am I right? Do you have feelings for her too?”

Flynn didn’t speak for a long time. He just stared at her, trying to make sense of what he had just heard.

His silence said it all.

“Well, there you go,” she murmured. It was all she could manage. She wanted to scream at him but her throat had seized up.

“Listen, Baird and I…” he began before having to think of what they were — if anything. “She– I think that she likes me,” he finally managed to get out. “And that I like her as well. Not that I dislike her, or anything. It’s just– It’s complicated. But she’s not you.”

She nodded and stared downward, pursing her chapped, dusty rose lips. “You _say_ that, but,” When she did look at him, she did so with eyes blazing like a hot furnace. “Do you _know_ that?”

It was an idiotic question. Of course, he knew it. The problem was that he missed the point, and the point was that if he truly wanted her, he shouldn’t be feeling for someone else. After all, how could one be certain what they felt for whom when they were this confused and conflicted? He didn’t know. This whole love thing was new to him.

However, he did read once that you should always agree with your partner and apologise, even if you don’t know what you did wrong. He knew it was a horrible, lazy strategy but if he did that, maybe they could have some success.

Now that he thought about it, he could see that he had been careless. He was keen on Sara, and loved her, even if he didn’t entirely know how or why. He was doing everything he could to fix himself. Being with him was bound to be a bumpy ride when the road was this damaged.

“You’re right. I need to re-evaluate my feelings. I’m sorry if I upset you,” Without taking his eyes off her, he opened the middle desk drawer and plucked out a bright coloured package of some sort. “Jelly bean?” he asked, offering her the open bag. He didn't know what else to say in this awkward moment. If all else failed, sweets could fix anything, right?

Though she shot him a glare, there was still a twinkle of revere in her eye. With a swift snatch, she took the whole bag and started shoving random flavours in her gob. “This changes nothing,” she said, muffled with something akin to vexation in her voice. Just as she was about to storm out, other people were rushing in.

It was Eve Baird, the woman Sara saw in Flynn’s memories. The Librarians in training followed closely behind her.

Sara froze in the face of this intimidating woman. Seeing her made her distressed all over again. She also had an air about her that commanded a room without saying a word or lifting a finger, and she was gorgeous to boot, which didn’t help.

“Uh, hello?” Baird pointed to Sara. “Intruder?”

“She’s not an intruder,” Flynn said.

“She _is_ leaving, though,” Sara declared with a look indicating that she could murder her. Eventually, she met everyone else’s gazes until she landed on Flynn. Following a groan only somewhat stifled by her clenched jaw, she stomped upstairs.

Unable to move her finger away from her, Baird continued to point at Sara, regarding Flynn with puzzlement. “You wanna tell me who that was?”

“Yeah, she’s, uh, kinda cute,” Jake chimed in. He looked back at her, sucking in his lower lip and biting it.

“Cute?” Ezekiel was decidedly disgusted, a front to hide that he, too, found her attractive. “More like hot-headed.”

“What are you even doing here?” Baird asked Flynn. “I thought you were off doing… Librarian things.”

“Tell you later,” Flynn muttered as he ran after Sara. He caught up with her just in time. “Sara!”

She groaned once more in annoyance. “You don’t know when to stop, do you?”

“I thought we were past this.”

Incredulously, she scoffed. “Evidently not.”

“All right, so I’m an idiot,” he said, defeated.

“Not the word I’d use.”

“I can’t choose, that’s my problem. I know I have to. I will.”

“I know you will. It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

“Seeing her just reminded me of everything and how– I really don’t have a chance. Do I? I mean, you and her–”

“We’re nothing!”

“You two aren’t nothing,” She continued as best as she could do through her ever-increasing sorrow. “I– I know what it’s like. To pine for someone — hell, I did for a week. It never goes away. You were happy with her. You’ve kissed. You’re obviously not nothing. I know, you’re scared, but going to me isn’t the way to handle that, and I don’t want to take away what could be.”

“It’s not like that,” he said with a tiny whimper.

Just as she did before, she held two of his fingers in her small hand. It made it even more difficult for her to keep it together, on the verge of sobbing by now. “Whatever you decide, Flynn, I’ll still be here for you. I’m not going anywhere. And if anything, _I’m_ the idiot. I– _We_ fell too hard, too fast. We barely know each other.”

“Well, you pretty much know everything about me, Miss Medium,” Flynn lightly chuckled. “But as for _you_ : I know you hate the rain but love the sound and smell of it when it hits the pavement. I know your love of music is only narrowly matched by your love of video games.”

Sara puffed out a small titter through her nostrils. “Flynn, I–”

“And I also know that you would much rather be elsewhere, than at home, with your poor excuse for parents.”

She shook her head and squeezed his fingers as denials kept cropping up, none of which she could acknowledge. “I shouldn’t.”

Second thoughts poked and prodded her like an over-zealous Doctor. She couldn’t help but still love him on some level. Something about him just seemed to draw her in, a moth to a flame. Whatever it was, was it so bad that it happened so quickly?

“For all that,” Flynn began. “Even though I’ve been beyond a buffoon, even though she _is_ here, you still want to stay, don’t you? You wouldn’t have listened to me if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I just wanted to see your stupid face and hear your alliteration one last time,” Sara responded to his smirk with a half-smile, which only confirmed he was right. She knew it would severely inflate his ego. Nevertheless, she gave him the satisfaction, and she couldn’t believe what she was about to admit. Frustrated with herself, she grumbled through her clenched jaw. “Okay, you caught me. Guilty as charged. I don’t want to go.”

“So stay. Make a difference, save the world every week–”

“Twice before Friday,” she said along with him. Another small grin formed on her face, little by little, fading just as slow as it came on. “What about–?”

“I’ll work on it,” Flynn replied before she could finish asking. “For you, I’ll work on it.”

“Flynn–” Sara paused, running through her reply in her head, contemplating what to say next. Eventually, it came to her while studying him, sensing his intentions. He meant well, but he was still _extremely_ confused. “Don’t do it for me. Do it for yourself. _Decide_ for yourself.”

 _Do it for myself_ , he thought. Flynn didn’t know how to do that. He never had to do anything for himself. It was all for the Library and nothing else. Flynn looked straight ahead and focused the greatest forces of his fantastic brain on trying to come up with a reasonable response. None came to mind.

A soft, Mona Lisa smile appeared on Sara’s face. “Though, truth be told, you and I, we _really_ –”

Knowing automatically she was going to say how they well they meshed, he interjected, “Yes, we do.”

She breathed out deeply with remorse. “I really don’t wanna go.”

“Then don’t. Maybe we could do a trial run.”

“With us or me working here?”

Flynn shrugged his shoulders. “Who says it can’t be both?” Suddenly, that idea was shoved out the window. “Although, I’m hardly here. A trial run on us wouldn’t work too well when there’s a person missing,” Then a brand new idea took the old one’s place. He shouted, causing her to jerk, “Ah-ha! New plan!” He took her other hand in his. “Come with me.”

“Come with you where?”

“Everywhere,” he answered. “You can be my Guardian.”

The insanely puzzled way she regarded him, it was like he just spoke in a foreign language. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Maybe,” As if searching for it, his eyes moved in every direction. He shook his head and waved his hands about, loosening and shooting away his current thought so the original could wedge back in. “Anyway! I’m not asking for a big commitment here.”

“Oh, no. Keeping a watchful eye on someone, making sure they’re safe at all times when danger seems to follow them everywhere? That’s nothing!” she retorted caustically.

“Why not? You were amazing back there, you’d be great at it!”

She folded her arms. “I thought you worked alone.”

“What? _Pfft_!” He waved his hand dismissively. “No, I was just being tough and macho,” It was a lie. He was being stubborn. “Of course I’d want you around.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just your way of getting closer to me?”

“Would that be so wrong?”

Her upper torso lurched from a semi-restrained giggle. “Well.”

“Please?”

It didn’t seem like he would change his mind at any point, and that sad puppy look he gave her wasn’t making it easy to say no. He still wanted to try, and honestly, so did she.

”That … sounds like a plan. I’ll be your Guardian, and I suppose we can figure things out as well. Start over.”

Flynn’s face brightened up. “Really?” His voice went up in pitch from excitement. Shortly after, he cleared his throat and tried to compose himself. The operative word being tried. “I mean, great. Fantastic. Molto bella. See you downstairs?”

Sara watched him leave, amusement still plastered on her face. “You’re weird, you know that?” she called out.

Flynn smiled and continued walking away, backwards. “I know,” he replied, then turned on his heels. _You probably couldn’t handle me._

“Oh-ho, just watch me!” she shouted down the walkway, responding to his thought.

Flynn laughed out loud as he rounded the corner, almost keen to see her try, and in an instant, was gone.

Then there was one.

Sara let out a heavy sigh as she leaned against the guard railing, watching the other Librarian trainees move about the room below. The mathematician, the thief and the art and history expert. They were all up to their usual antics, and they were making no effort to get her to notice. Then there was Jenkins trying to wrangle them all.

Then the final one. Her Librarian. Sara couldn’t feel anything except the tears in her eyes. She should have known the connection was there from the get-go. The connection between anyone and a Librarian was nothing short of interesting, but for her, an empath, it was intense.

She could feel the pain of her Librarian, and the low self-esteem, among other issues, that he was struggling with. Her mind turned into a whirlwind of various thoughts, at first confusing and difficult to even pronounce. From him, there came instant, overwhelming passion for so many things, turning her body, heart, mind and soul into his, for a moment.

In all of this, she lost track of time. Before she knew it, she had been up there for two minutes. She also lost track of Jenkins at one point, but didn’t care, content with watching everyone else.

As it turned out, Jenkins was headed for her. Sara paid no mind. He even got up behind her, maybe two feet between them, and she still didn’t notice.

“Miss Wheeler.”

Sara gasped and jumped. Her heart beat so fast, she thought it would pop out of her chest.

“As much as I would _love_ for you to go home, I think it best you come downstairs. Before Mister Carsen throws a tantrum,” Jenkins said.

She cocked her head and placed her hand on her hip. “You don’t like me, do you?”

“Now that’s not fair,” He crossed his arms. “I don’t like _anyone_.”

“What’s so bad about people?”

“Let’s not go there. Come with me.”

As he led her through the hall and down the stairs, she wondered how he, or anyone here for the matter, would fare in making friends with someone like her. Then again, how would she handle it? She didn’t have any friends. And who would pay attention to her anyway? She didn’t even have a fancy degree in teaching or anything, didn’t have a job to pay the bills, didn’t have a life — yet. Soon, Guardianship would be her life.

“Mister Carsen told me what’s next for you. I’ve notified your parents,” Jenkins told her. “From this moment on, you work at the Library, with the Librarian, and you are away on assignment until future notice. You can call them, visit, if possible, but beyond that, you cannot tell them what it is you do.”

Sara sloughed off his suggestion. “Or I can just disappear.”

“That works too.”

The real world, the one where days were busy and nights were dirty and silent and hard to sleep through, was getting a little too much for her. The prospect of a different schedule and a different world was enticing.

Sara drew in a quick breath and asked, “So, how does this Librarian thing work? Something happens to the current Librarian and another one steps up?”

“That is the gist of it, yes.”

“So he could die if neither of us aren’t careful?”

“Precisely,” He set a patronising hand on her shoulder. “No pressure.”

She nervously laughed and said, “Yeah,” Her feigned, cool-headed expression soon turned sour once more. “No pressure,” she mumbled.

“With you, though, I think I’ll be okay,” Flynn spoke up out of nowhere, startling her for the umpteenth time. He greeted Sara with a wide grin. “There you are! I was beginning to think you were getting cold feet again,” Flynn then caught sight of the others headed towards them. “Ah,” He leaned in close to Sara and whispered, “Play along, okay?”

Cassandra cheerfully smiled and said, “Hello.”

“You all haven’t been properly introduced, have you?” Flynn began pacing behind the large, cluttered table in the middle of the room. “Sara Wheeler, age thirty, ex-med student at UCSF, dropped out after three years, has an unhealthy obsession with nineties music and pop culture–”

“ _Not_ unhealthy!”

“Sara, please, all obsessions are unhealthy. Anyway, where was I?”

“Nineties music,” Ezekiel replied, then eyed Sara sensually. “Which is one of the best decades, if I do say so myself because I was born.”

“Thief who is full of himself. Got it.”

He smirked. “You think you know me so well, Wheeler.”

“I know you stole millions and have two FBI reports.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Not bad. Boring. _You_ , on the other hand,” Sara glided towards Jenkins, her head tilted to one side as she studied him. “You’re very interesting, my friend.”

Jenkins could barely speak, let alone keep eye contact. The fact that she knew so much already made him uneasy.

Flynn shot the three of them a mild scowl. “May I continue now, children?”

“Yes, Dad,” Instantly, Sara felt sick to her stomach. “Ohhh, that sounded so wrong. Don’t ever let me say that again.”

“Noted. Now!” Flynn clapped his hands, making everyone in the room attentive. “Despite the love for teen pop and mystic creatures with powers who are both cute and weird, she… is something else,” He regarded Sara with pride and genuine respect. After shaking off his trance, he snapped out of it. “Uh, right. Abilities; she has telekinesis, a reader — and I don’t mean of books — she’s a medium, as well as a healer.”

Cassandra’s ears perked up. “Healer?”

However, Baird was more interested in the other aspects. “Medium? She can see things?”

“See, hear, sense. Sometimes before anything comes along, which can be useful.”

“She’s a new Librarian then?” Jake asked.

“No, actually,” Flynn grit his teeth at what he was about to say next. “She’s my new Guardian. A Guardian that I didn’t _need_ …! But here we are.”

His attitude confused Sara. Just a few seconds he was ecstatic about the concept. Although, he did say to play along, so she did. Sara had a stern expression, taking charge of the fake situation. She didn’t show it, but she was a nervous wreck. Pseudo confrontation or not, she hated it. “Yes, well, you clearly don’t work better alone, in spite of what you say. Now, I’m going to be your Guardian, whether you like it or not because you do need me! So, suck it up, big man.”

Secretly, Flynn was turned on. Even if she was acting, she was attractive to him in that instant. “Well, can’t argue with that, regina meis,” he said, his voice barely audible to everyone other than Sara.

“I have no idea what you just called me, but given your tone, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Baird was fidgety, impatient. She fiddled with her phone for a few moments before finally speaking up. “Hey, Doctor and Donna!” She held her arms out in affront. “We’re still here.”

Sara blankly stared at her, wanting to be angry but didn’t have it in her. She bobbed her head while debating. “I would be insulted by that if that wasn’t accurate.”

“Flynn, you didn’t answer my question: what are you doing here? Also, I thought I was your Guardian.”

Ignoring the second part of her sentence, he said, “Ah, right. Well, I thought I had a lead, but now that I’m here I wanted to talk to you about–” In an instant, his face gleamed with realisation. He did have a lead, and it was staring him in the face, behind Baird. It being an Egyptian statue. “Pharaohs!” He sprinted back to Sara.

By now, Baird thought she understood him, but she was just as confused by him as ever. “Pharaohs … Did you want to talk about them _now_ , or _after_ your meltdown?”

Cassandra swiftly walked up to Sara, her hopeful blue eyes boring into hers. “Can you heal me?”

Sara stammered her words, such as they were. Being put on the spot like that was unnerving, to say the least. “W– Uhh.”

“Cassandra, please. She just got here,” Flynn then asked Sara in an urgent manner, “Do you still have those notes?”

“I thought you had them.”

Fear and dismay crossed his face. “No, I–”

She reached into her jeans front pocket and held a folded up piece of paper between two fingers. “Kidding.”

Flynn regained his composure and steadied an admonishing gaze on her while snatching it from her grasp. “Never do that to me again.”

“Noted,” she said with a smirk.

Flynn made room on the table and slapped the paper down for the others to see.

“What am I looking at?” Jake’s tone was flat as he studied what was in front of him.

“Possibly…” Flynn glanced at each of them before finishing, stalling because he was still unsure. “A way to bring back the Library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. Different Guardian for Fynn? I always felt like Baird was the LITs’ Guardian more than his. As I said at the start, I knew it wouldn’t be for everyone. I hope it was well-liked regardless.


End file.
